


Grayscale

by Ragdoll (Keshka)



Category: Bright (2017)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Canon-Typical Violence, Elemental Magic, Elf Culture & Customs, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Elvish, Ensemble Cast, Eventual Romance, M/M, Magical Realism, Plotty, Possessive Behavior, Slow Burn, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-05-31
Packaged: 2019-03-17 15:53:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 68,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keshka/pseuds/Ragdoll
Summary: Kandomere had always thought himself above base Human weaknesses like family and friendship, and he'd certainly never considered himself any kind of revolutionary.  But that was before he met Ward.In the aftermath, an Elf and a Human Bright conspire to end two thousand years of corruption and lead the world into an age of magic."Bright's have a flavor of magic to them.  Now you've been marked by the wand, it is awake inside you and cannot be compelled to sleep again.  You put yourself and those around you in danger even to try."





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Uh, this one got a bit out of hand. Whoops? Thanks to Paradiamond for inspiring some of my thoughts about the importance of culture.
> 
> This movie had such beautiful potential and I for one am looking forward to a sequel! It's been quite an inspiration. But in the meantime, I'm happy to dip my toes into fandom...

“Officer Ward, when you discovered the wand -“

“Look, how many times you guys going to make me say it?  Here, let me put it in small words for you: There. Was. No. Wand.”

The task force interviewer made no outward sign of her irritation, though it was obvious in her posture to Kandomere.  He watched through the opaque glass as she shuffled through the pictures on the table until she came to the one she was looking for.

“This wand.”

“Is that a wand?  Looks more like a glow stick to me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d been flippant during questioning, not even the first time this week.  This was Ward's fourth interview at the division office, and he remained consistent and loud about his lies.  Clearly he was aware he fooled no one with his pretense, but then it was also clear his goal was self-preservation, not deception.  

Kandomere found himself unwillingly amused by the Human's dogged persistence, and knew this made him perverse by most standards.  If they'd been interviewing an Elf, the task force would have had the information they sought long ago.  Elves were pragmatic.  Humans were more intransigent by nature; where an Elf bent, a Human might stand firm until broken.  That was their way, and it made them unpredictable and therefore dangerous. 

“Officer Ward -“

“Hey, can I get something to eat, you think? I missed lunch.  No offense to you Feds and all, but the hospitality around here has been seriously lacking.”

“Officer Ward -“

“I mean, not like this is the first time you guys've had me in, figure you should know the ropes by now, right?  The average Human needs regular feeding and watering.”

“Officer Ward, the wand -“

“The glow stick -“

Kandomere tapped twice on the two-way glass with the back of his hand. The Elf woman glanced up.

“Vacate the room,” Kandomere said, the mic amplifying his voice resonantly.  He could see the agent's ageless features tighten in displeasure but she did as bid and rose swiftly to her feet, shuffling pictures and files back into her arms as she swept out.

“What?” Ward said to the empty room, obnoxiously innocent.  "Was it something I said?”

“Sir,” she demurred a moment later as she stepped into the watch room. “This Human.  Are we sure he’s worth speaking to?  Even if he is a material witness, the evidence in this case speaks for itself.  And this man, he seems -“

He heard her search for a diplomatic word and stall at the many unflattering terms which immediately sprang to mind.  Kandomere has seen some of them on paper in the scathing reports of others who had sat in the same chair she had. Ward was not well liked by task force employees, and he gleefully made new enemies every time he was summoned in. 

Clearly the situation could not be allowed to go on.

“Unreasonable,” she settled on. “And uncooperative.”

“Common Human traits,” he said. 

“Yet Human interviewers have had no greater success,” she retorted, just shy of insubordination, but one glance was enough to quell her.

Her words were true enough, in any case. The first to try had been Montehugh, and his failure had been rather spectacular. The man was a competent second in command for Kandomere, generally loyal and eager to throw his considerable weight around, but he relied almost entirely on intimidation. Ward was not someone easily intimidated, and he held few words behind his teeth when provoked. Where Montehugh was loud obscure threats and posturing, Ward was wary cunning and precision, with better instincts than strategy.  

Kandomere had watched that interview with reluctant fascination.  Ward was cagey and belligerent and _interesting_.  It had been many years since the Elf had last found anyone remotely interesting.  Though if there were ever someone to do it, he supposed the first (living) Human Bright discovered in an age was an ideal candidate. 

Not that anyone else was aware of that; what Kandomere knew, he'd kept carefully to himself, and few would suspect a Human of magical talent in any case.  As far as the rest of the Magic Task Force division was concerned, Tikka was the only Bright still at large, and Officer Daryl Ward was simply the unfortunate Human who'd been caught up in the wake of an Inferni conflict, a material witness and at one time suspected of criminal aiding and abetting, now cleared of all charges.

"Sir?" the interviewer asked, and Kandomere blinked back to himself.

“Clear this room and return to your desk,” he said, coming to a decision.  He held out a hand. “The file.”

She handed it over without a word, seeming somewhat relieved to be rid of it.

“I will expect your report by tomorrow.”

She left, and he took a moment to disable the surveillance cameras before following her out.  The hall was empty; interview rooms were set quite apart from the normal activity of the office for good reason, not least of which was to reduce any potential for gossip.  The hallways themselves were unmonitored.  Sometimes it was advantageous not to have a subject on any given camera until or unless the task force wanted them on camera. 

Kandomere waited until the agent had gone from his sight, waited until he could no longer hear the soft plodding of her steps or the susurration of her clothes.  Then he slipped around the corner and into the other room.

Ward looked up at his entrance, wary hostility in every line of his face, but he said nothing as Kandomere leaned against the doorway, tucking the file into his side.

"Officer Ward," he greeted.

"Sir," Ward said.  It was the first gesture of respect he'd offered since his second interview; a promising start.  That was dispelled moments later when the Human spoke again.

"You mind telling me what bullshit you guys've dragged me in here for this time?"

Kandomere gestured to the hall behind him.  "Come with me."

"What, is the party over already?" Ward asked, rising.  "Giving up pretty easy today, aren't you?  Sorry, was it me?  I didn't mean to scare off your little baby interviewer so quickly."

Kandomere said nothing, turning to walk further down the hall.  They moved in silence down several corridors, passing two locked junctions, and into a room far from the eyes and ears of others, far from any possible incursion of surveillance.  Each task force division building had a safe room just like it, created with total privacy in mind.  They weren't often used. 

Kandomere unlocked the door with his thumbprint, letting Ward precede him to settle reluctantly on the edge of a utilitarian chair next to the table.  He re-locked the door behind them and then settled in the chair opposite the Human and laced his fingers together on the table, waiting.

"Okay," Ward said after a moment.  "Thanks for the nickel and dime tour.  You guys have some really nice carpeting, I got to say, all beige and bland as shit.  And the walls are like, top notch.  Can't really comment on anything else, since, you know, that's all I've seen so far."

Kandomere opened the file, spreading out the papers before them.

"Man, don't think I don't recognize this tactic; like I haven't been on the other side interrogating perps my whole career.  Give me all the silent treatment you want.  I can't tell you what I don't know."

Kandomere flipped over the top demographics page, reading idly.

Ward opened his mouth to continue but evidently thought better of it, perhaps realizing the futility.  He settled for glaring at Kandomere's left ear.  Interesting; he'd had no difficulty directing his insolence into the face of previous interviewers.  Kandomere scented his anger, reluctantly impressed to find no hint of anxiety; Ward was irritated and even somewhat afraid, but he was an experienced police officer and not easily prone to nerves.  The Human had finally decided on silence, and he would not speak until provoked.

"Is that what you think I'm doing, Officer Ward?" Kandomere asked at last, after the silence had gone on pointedly for some time.  "Interrogating you?"

"There another word for it?" Ward challenged.

"Perhaps I'm simply seeking the truth."

"Same shit, different pile."

Kandomere suppressed a smile, reconsidered, and let a shadow of it peek through.  Ward had not responded to intimidation, flattery, cold rationality, or polite indifference.  Perhaps he would respond to honesty.

"Interesting.  That is what I considered your PD office when I visited there some weeks ago.  A shithole."

Ward barked a laugh that surprised both of them, subsiding into his chair with a bitter smile on his lips.

"Oh, it's definitely that, and more."

"My opinion of it has changed little since then," Kandomere agreed.  "However, you and your partner have managed to come to the attention of this task force, and even now await commendations for recent actions.  It seems not everything is a loss at the LAPD."

What little humor had surfaced disappeared quickly as Ward scowled again at Kandomere's left ear.

"Look, I don't know what you think you know, but my partner and I were responding to a routine call - "

"There can be no possible surveillance in this room, no one watching or listening to this conversation," Kandomere told him.  He reached into an inside pocket to pull out a small cylindrical device that he set on the table between them.  Ward eyed it as one might eye a dangerous weapon.

"Yeah, so no one's spying on us, so what.  Why should I care?  And what the fuck is that?"

"An additional layer of security," Kandomere said, turning it on, waiting for the green activation light.  "A localized jammer." 

Ward's tension spiked, fear taking on a more potent flavor in his scent as he darted a glance to the locked metal door, the smooth unblemished walls around them, the lack of glass or window or ventilation shaft.  He controlled himself well and the fear ebbed to a neutral tone seconds later, adrenaline and readiness taking its place.  Kandomere watched the Human's hand make an aborted move toward a sidearm which was not present; he'd had to leave his weapons at the front check point of course.

"I mean you no harm, Officer Ward," Kandomere said.  "Quite the opposite.  But your pretense has become a tired one.  If you expect me to take you at your word, then it must mean something.  Now that it's just you and I in this room, having a simple discussion, I hope privacy will encourage truth between us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ward demanded.

“As division lead, I have done much to clear your name based on a false account of events which has been mutually beneficial.  But do not mistake me for a fool.  I took a risk letting you go, but we both know what you are and what you have done.”

“Are you threatening me?  Is that supposed to be a threat?"  The veneer of nonchalance sloughed away like rain over stone and suddenly where there had been a pretense of indifference there was blazing rage and defiance. The wash of his passion caught Kandomere before he was quite prepared and he looked away, feeling his eyes and ears tint with color. He was obscurely glad there was no one else present to witness his misstep. How embarrassing.

“I do not threaten,” he said, blinking until the color had faded from his line of sight.  “I merely state facts. I have taken your words for truth in spite of many gaps, holes which perhaps only you and I would recognize. I have allowed this even when you refused to speak of suspicious events, even when there was only the dubious word of your biased Orc partner to corroborate you.  That fiction is enough for others, but understand: if I am to trust you, I will expect your trust in return.”

He anticipated more bluster, thought the fire of temper might overcome common sense, but pragmatism prevailed. Ward subsided, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. How easy Humans were to read; their bodies practically shouted their feelings to the world at any given moment, and what wasn't obvious to Kandomere's eyes was more so to his nose.

“I am not your enemy, Officer Ward,” he said. “Do not make me yours. It will not go well for anyone.”

“'I don’t threaten’, my ass,” Ward sneered.

"Let's not mince words: you are a Bright.  You have used the Wand this division now has in its possession.  The wider world you may keep in denial, and even this department has been convinced you are nothing more than a witness to magic used by another.  But you know the truth and so do I.  Denying magic is a perilous endeavor.”

“I’ve gone my whole life without even a hint of magic until Elves tripped into it,” Ward said, and a thrill of triumph rolled through Kandomere before he could suppress it.  The thin facade of deception was discarded as Ward hunched forward, hands clenched. “Pretty sure I’ll be just fine.”

“Now you have touched a wand, that will change.”

“Only thing that wand did for me was give me a nasty-ass burn.  I ain't going to let it ruin my whole damn life," Ward snarled, opening one palm to display the mark.

Kandomere caught his hand before he could withdraw it, turning it up into the light.

"What the fuck - "

He touched his fingertips to the flare of scar tissue, and an arc of energy jolted between them.  Kandomere had been prepared, but Ward flinched violently and would have jerked away if he weren't held fast.

"What the _fuck_ \- "

"Bright's have a flavor of magic to them, an energy.  Now you've been marked by the wand, it is awake inside you and cannot be compelled to sleep again.  You put yourself and those around you in danger even to try."

Ward stared down at where their hands were connected, finally withdrawing with precise, jerky motions until he sat still and blank where he was.  Kandomere was vaguely impressed again; he had to scent the air to determine Ward's feelings and even there they were muted: fear, confusion, anger, and beneath that an unexpected thread of relief.

"Alright," Ward said finally.  "Let's say for one minute I believe you.  That I did all the things you think I did at that house, which I ain't saying I did.  What does it mean?  What the fuck do you want from me?"

Another thrill of triumph.  Kandomere could not recall the last time he had been so invested in a conversation, but he supposed he shouldn't be surprised.  Ward was the long-awaited answer to a question Kandomere had been asking for longer than the Human had been alive.  The possibility of change was a potent flavor in his mind; Elves lived long and had little in life to excite them, but this -

Kandomere felt vaguely as though a place inside him which had been dormant was stirring into life again at long last.

“I want you to keep your silence just as you have been," he said.  "But before you do, you will need to understand the danger of it.  Time is limited, so I will be frank.”

He flipped up the picture of the wand on the table, caught in a moment of bright blue power. Then he reached into the lining of his jacket to withdraw a second picture, identical to the first but for one difference. In this one the wand glowed orange.

“The wand has begun to oscillate between the two colors. This is not the normal behavior of wands and already questions are being asked which are difficult to contain.  Few know that the color denotes the race of its user; certainly this information is not available to the general public, but if this goes on long enough someone with more sophisticated understanding will discover it.  I can offer you no protection without your cooperation, and little enough of that in any case.  You will have to learn quickly to trust me.”

“Why?” Ward grated, but his eyes were arrested on the new picture where the wand glowed the color of a living flame.  Kandomere buried a moment of visceral satisfaction; Ward could deny all he liked, but his instincts spoke for him and they drew him inexorably to this sign of Human power.

“What I tell you next you may take as proof of my trust, and I expect you will honor it in kind.”

“Or you’ll feed me to the fishes, right?”  But the sarcasm was rote, rehearsed, and Kandomere waved it away.

“Long ago, the balance of the world lay immutable on the land; the Dark Lord was absolutely powerful and controlled power absolutely.  The Orcs were his minions, and Humans his amusement.  The Centaurs, the Fairies, all the others, even those who no longer live in the world that has now come to pass, were crushed beneath his heel.  But not the Elves."

"Yeah, right," Ward sneered, "because Elves are awesome.  Pretty little white knights saving the world then and running the world now.  Right?"

"The Elves were not crushed because they bowed willingly to his whims instead.  They stood as advisors, soldiers, and assassins.  They were his enforcers."

"What?" Ward said.

Kandomere took a breath, intrigued to find himself uncomfortable.  He could not recall the last time he had told this story to anyone, let alone an outsider.  Those who knew never repeated it, and those who didn't know lived on in ignorance, or died in the learning of it.  This was history remade by the victors, wiped from any book or tale until it had been scrubbed clean from the echoes of time immemorial.   Entire generations of people had died that the Elves might remake their role in the world and come to rule it on the other side.  Kandomere would need to go swiftly and carefully.  Right now Ward was only a danger to himself and his loved ones; once he knew this he would be a danger to all.  But the Human would not respond to anything else; he sought a hard-won honesty, and so he would have it, and all the risks that came with it.

"The Elves helped the Dark Lord to break the world, helped him to remake it in his image.  They slaughtered his opposition, hunted at his direction, heeled to his command.  They were as slaves to his every desire, but worse than the Orcs, who had the dubious honor of serving him by reluctant necessity.  The Elves could have opposed him at any time, but they chose to serve.  They chose to side with him."

"What?" Ward repeated.  "That's bullshit.  That's not how it happened.  The Orcs were the ones who -"

"History will tell a different tale, yes, but it's a tale written by those very long-lived with a patient hand and nothing but time to sow the seeds of deception."  He leaned forward, feeling oddly free, oddly without anchor now that someone else _knew_.  It was exhilarating.

"In the end, when the Dark Lord was poised to fall from power, the Orcs turned away from him.  The Elves did not."

Ward was looking him in the eyes for the first time, wide and bewildered.  His attention was arresting.

"Why are you telling me this?" Ward asked.

"I tell you this so you can understand the role you have walked into, and the very real danger you and everyone around you face by the fact of your very existence.  You stand to upset a balance of power that has been two thousand years in the making."

"I never asked for this," Ward said.  "I didn't want it."

"Nonetheless, you have it.  And there is no turning away from it.  Human Brights are very rare, but not as rare as rumor would have you believe.  One in every thousand Human children might be born with the ability to sense magic.  One in every one hundred thousand is born a Bright, with enough power to wield a wand.  Nature bestowed on Humans the right to magic, and gave the gift to no other race."

Kandomere allowed the confusion to mount, watched as Ward's face creased with uncertain confusion.

"Don't get me wrong," Ward said.  "I mean, this is an awesome history lesson, way more entertaining than the ones my eighth grade teacher used to give.  But there's a flaw in your monologue, man.  Tikka was a Bright.  Leilah was a Bright.  They were Elves; all the Brights are Elves.  That's why Elves run the whole damn world."

"All Brights the world recognizes are Elves," Kandomere agreed.  "Because all others who are discovered are killed quickly before they come into power."

"That's - impossible," Ward said.

"That is reality.  The Elves search endlessly for any whisper or rumor of Bright potential in Humans, and snuff it out before it can come to fruition.  A natural born Bright is a magic user an order of magnitude above all others, and cannot be allowed to survive.  That type of power can remake the world." 

Kandomere leaned forward, intent, and let the bitterness of knowledge wash over his face.

"Have you ever wondered why the Dark Lord has no other name, no identity beyond who and what he was?  History marks him only as a shadow, unknown and unknowable.  Have you never wondered from which race he spawned?"

"No," Ward said, but not in answer, in denial.

"He was Human," Kandomere said, "and he kept other Humans subjugated to him by stealing the magic from his fellow Brights and seeding it in himself.  He gave a pale imitation of his gift to his closest followers, and some others - Orcs, Dwarves - caught a shadow of it simply by being near him.  Elves create covens to share in the power because that it is the only way for them.  But Nature gave magic to Humans alone, and allowed that Humans could consume the power of those around them to make themselves stronger.  That was how the Dark Lord rose to power, and that was how he fell from it."

Kandomere watched as Ward's eyes travelled again to the metal door keeping him from fleeing, as his instincts were undoubtedly screaming at him to do.  He waited to see what the Human might try, but they passed the minutes in silence while Ward absorbed this new reality.  Kandomere let him be; he imagined he himself had been quite shocked the first time he'd heard this tale, but that was many years ago.  Elves lived long; memory tended to blur after the first hundred years.

"You're telling me you and your fellow Elftown assholes have a whole industry of people dedicated to killing off Brights from other races," Ward said, still staring at the door.

"Having witnessed the level of corruption you have, does that surprise you?  Yes, it's true, but it is nothing so obvious as that.  It is still a hidden thing, even among my kind.  Before the Dark Lord fell, his Elf enforcers felt the turning of the world upon them.  They swore undying allegiance and pledged his return to life one day, and in return, they asked for a power Nature had denied them.  To ensure his survival in an uncertain future, he agreed to seal away pieces of magic into artifacts, that might then be used by any he deemed worthy.  He had one himself which was born of legend, and he broke pieces of this away into smaller forms."  Kandomere gestured to the pictures below, where blue and orange glowed in eerie testament to his words.  "That was how the wands were first made.”

“No one knows how many were created, but when the Dark Lord fell many went into the care of his loyal followers. Some went astray and into the hands of his enemies.  The fanatics fell into unrest and dark ritual, but the ambitious sensed an opportunity; fear holds only so much sway, as the Dark Lord had learned, and benevolent mastery was a much simpler road.  The Elves lowered themselves to rebuild the world alongside the other races, and leant their wisdom and their strength where they may."

Kandomere waited to see if the Human might interrupt him, ask him more, but Ward was silent.

"As the ages passed, stories of the generosity of Elves replaced old tales of their depravity and cruelty, and eventually they were hailed as heroes.  The Orcs made a convenient target for old hatred, and it was a simple thing to rewrite history that they might be the only race spurned.  After a thousand years, even the Orcs began to believe it.  Eventually the Elves grew comfortable with their new role in history and fell into complacent sloth and greed, and so they are the Elves you see today; wealthy, influential, lazy and apathetic.  Weak."

Kandomere paused to sneer, thinking with contempt of his kin, the rich and famous of their kind, the industry titans, the business moguls, the corrupt pinnacle of society headed by Elves who lived in smug decadence and indolence, all the world a game to their indifferent eyes.

"You know you talk about them in the third person, right?" Ward said, and Kandomere looked up.  "Like you ain't one of them.  Pointed ears and freaky eyes notwithstanding."

Kandomere blinked.  He supposed it was true enough; he did not think of himself as one of them.  The Elves as a whole were dedicated to an evil path, and if they were less dedicated today than they had been a millennia ago it was not because their aims had changed.  It was only that the lure of idle power had blunted their drive and at the most some of them had begun to believe in the fiction of their own benevolence.  If Elves turned now from darkness, they did so out of convenience and ignorance, with their eyes firmly closed.

It was not enough.  Kandomere would turn from it with his eyes wide open.

"The Inferni are the scapegoats of a corrupt Elf society," he continued contemptuously, ignoring the Human.  "A concession to old rumors that Elves once fought for the Dark Lord.  They are an example which can be hunted and silenced for the public's satisfaction.  But they are only the radicals.  I would bring them all into the light and expose them for what they are."

"Uh huh," Ward said, "Spoken like a true infomercial."  And though he was flippant, he was also reluctantly invested; Kandomere could scent his interest.  The Human did not believe him, not quite, but his wary anger at least had mellowed into a grudging curiosity. 

"How secure is that door?" Ward asked, a seeming non sequitur.

"It is built to ensure absolute privacy and security.  It can only be fingerprinted to one person, and opens only with the living imprint of that fingerprint."

"So theoretically, if I could somehow manage to down you and get your thumb on that reader, I could make a run for it and, I don't know, pretend I never heard any of this shit," Ward mused.

"Theoretically, yes.  But discounting your lack of weapons, my superior strength and reflexes, and the likelihood you will be caught before you make it to the front door - where you will then need an authorized ID card or signature to leave - you are not going to attempt to run."

"Why not?" Ward asked.

"Because there is nowhere in the world you could run on your own that would be far enough to save your life, or the lives of your daughter, wife, or partner."

Ward hunched into himself, and Kandomere half expected to receive another accusation of treachery and threat, but:

"Yeah," Ward said, sighing.  "That sounds about right."

The Human leaned forward and Kandomere mirrored him, until they were staring eye to eye, and he could feel color flush the tips of his ears again, burnish his eyes with the lightest shine.

"Why did you tell me this?" Ward asked.

"So that we might do this together," Kandomere said.  "So that you will know I have risked in trusting you, and you may risk in trusting me.  I want you to help me stop this.  I want you to help me remake the world."

"I'm not doing that," Ward said.  "I'm not some - some new Dark Lord or something."

"You needn't be," Kandomere said, though that was at least somewhat a lie.  They would need Ward to use his power in ways the Human was not prepared to, yet.  It was an inevitable thing if this plan was to succeed, and Kandomere would have to be patient as the Human took his time coming to the same realization.  "But the Dark Lord will return if the Inferni have their way.  If he does, we must have magic ready to combat him.  The Elves will deny it to placate the public but in this, at least, the Shield of Light has always been correct.  You wish to save lives?  In this way, you might save them all, and expose the truth of Elf corruption in the process."

Elves did so excel at patience.

"Look," Ward said, for once focused and serious.  "I ain't some big hero, looking to rain fire and brimstone down on fairy tale villains.  You want a hero, go talk to Nick; dude never seems to shut up about prophecies and shit.  Me, I just want to live out my next five years working in peace and quiet, with as few shootouts as possible, you know?  Retire on full pension so I can afford to hire a damn exterminator to keep those fucking fairies out of my bird feeder."

"Your opportunity for a quiet, undisturbed life ended when you encountered Tikka," Kandomere said.

"Nah, man, it ended when my sergeant - who turned out to be dirty as shit anyway - stuck an Orc in my car and painted a huge ass target on my back."

"If you choose to see yourself as a bystander in your own life, I can't stop you," Kandomere said.  "But eventually you will need to join with others like yourself.  Others who will be found as time passes; some Brights, some simply those who cleave to the cause."  He could see Ward was unconvinced, so he added: "And those like Tikka, who turn from a path of darkness and yet need help coming into the light.  There are more of them than you might think, but the Inferni do not look kindly on deserters, and the wider world does not look kindly on magic users."

Ward scrubbed a hand over his face at that, sighing heavily.

"Pulling out the big guns, huh?" Ward said.

"If that's what it takes to convince you," Kandomere said.

"Yeah, whatever," Ward said.  "So far up shit creek what's one more mile, right?"  Ward tipped his head back until he was staring at the ceiling, a weary resignation clouding his features, a subdued acceptance in his scent. 

"Okay," Ward said at last, seeming almost to speak more to himself than to Kandomere.  "Let's say there's even a chance that I believe all this voodoo hocus pocus bullshit you're talking about.  And let's say, hypothetically, that I decided, alright, maybe I'm down for it.  If I were - and I'm not saying I am - where would we go from here?" 

Kandomere smiled.

That was where it started.


	2. Chapter 2

Elves and Humans were not designed to mesh well in either theory or practice.  An Elf was a savage predatory creature, cruel and patient, with superior strength and long life; they were generally insensitive to the plights of others and inflexible to change.  Nature had given Humans quick wit and unending hunger, strength in cunning and guile, magical gifts instead of physical, and a passion and thirst for experience that Elves lacked.  Elves and Humans could work together by necessity, but history had shown this was not usually a painless path.

Kandomere had learned to coexist among the races as all Elves must who operated outside Elftown.  But he'd always done so while feeling assured of his own superiority, his authority, his power.  He might have turned away from the heritage of his people, but like most Elves he was revered in his position and agency simply for being who and what he was.  And he had come to expect and rely on the esteem and reverence so often given to him without question.

He learned quickly this was not the way in which he and Daryl Ward would coexist.

"I ain't doing that," Ward said.  "That's stupid."

Kandomere eyed him closely.  His experience of Ward on the Medical unit had been deceptive in the extreme; far from being docile and cooperative, even for a Human Ward seemed incredibly quick to hostility.  Half the time he appeared to speak simply without forethought, aggressive and mistrustful, but the rest of the time what he said was clearly intended to goad a reaction.  So far Kandomere had resisted giving it to him, but he found his control waning as time went on.  Ward was like a spur in the side; not bothersome until the eleventh hour went by without opportunity to remove it.

"If you have a better idea -"

"Yeah, I do.  It's called not going into witness protection."

"It would be the easiest way to defend or move you in the event -"

"I don't need defending!  I need to lay low until the rumors die down.  And once that happens, maybe then we can look at your insane plan to upset the natural order of the world."

"It will not be so easy," Kandomere said, with what he privately thought was rather impressive calm.  Stubborn, impossible Human.  "Your magic is now in an active state; it won't simply leave you alone while you wait for things to 'die down'.  Once a Bright's magic wakes, they are inevitably discovered in one of a thousand ways, usually quickly.  This will not be a thing easily hidden."

"Maybe.  But I've got the inside track.  You are literally the head of the magical task force division in this city.  Even if anyone did find out about me, it comes straight to you.  You could just - ignore it."

"I can't just ignore it," Kandomere said, sharper than he intended.  Patience, he reminded himself.  Patience.  They were speaking - arguing - in one of Kandomere's many safe houses, a quaint and isolated high rise in a middle-class section of the city.  Raised voices would not be remarked on, but any overhead discussion of magic certainly would be.  This was the third time they'd used this apartment to discuss strategy; it was going no better today than it had during their last two meetings.

"If you are discovered using magic in any way, a half-dozen or more agents would be involved in your capture.  If you were lucky enough to be brought in without incident you would be thoroughly interrogated, stripped of your badge, imprisoned, and likely killed by one of my kin looking to eliminate a Human threat.  I would have little say in the matter, and certainly no way to quietly cover it up.  This division is only one of many; a task force exists in every major city.  This is much larger than you think it is."

"You're making it sound worse than it is," Ward said.

" _You_ -" Kandomere started, and red clouded his sightline for a moment.  He blinked it away until all was dim and grey again.

"You are minimizing a very real danger," he said, bluntly.

"Even if I get caught, it won't be because I'm using magic.  I ain't going to be using magic," Ward said.

"You won't be able to avoid it."

"Watch me."

Kandomere had not risen to the position he was in by fighting useless battles; like so many other things, he would have to let Ward come to this realization on his own.  Doubtless it would not happen effortlessly or without major disaster; Kandomere would simply have to prepare for the fallout of it in future.

"Your choices are your own, of course," he said.  "You will forgive me if I create a contingency plan for the day you are captured."

"Doesn't bother me," Ward said.  "Waste all the time you want."

 _Impossible_ Human -

"But you can scrap any plans you might have that feature me leaving the city or booking it without my family," Ward said.  "Never going to happen.  So those are all out."

"You needn't go into witness protection alone.  You may take your wife and daughter with you."

" _No_ ," Ward said sharply, as if _he_ were the one dealing with an insufferably stubborn creature.  "I like my life.  My family likes our life.  We're not leaving."

"There seems little enough to like," Kandomere muttered scathingly.  "I have seen your Internal Affairs brief; congratulations, by the way, on not turning Jakoby in.  That was a mark of trust most would never have afforded an Orc."

"It wasn't trust given blindly," Ward said.  "I had to put a gun to his head before he'd admit he let that kid go.  Go figure; turns out he was totally legit about it, but believe me we did not see eye to eye on that for a long time."

"Interesting," Kandomere said.  "I hope that isn't how you intend to ensure my trustworthiness."

"Nah, man, it's not that I don't trust you - much - it's just that all your plans are shit.  And seem to revolve around me getting the hell out of town.  It ain't going to happen."

"Believe what you will," Kandomere said.  "I will tend to reality while you do so."

"Oh, fuck _off_.  I've lived in LA my whole life, do you even understand that?  My daughter was born here and I ain't going to take her away from all her friends and send her into hiding.  What kind of life is that?"

"As I said, you could all go together -"

"Dude, you're totally missing the fucking point.  Do you, I don't know, even have a family?  Elves live forever or some shit, but I know they have kids, I've seem 'em."

"Elves do not live forever," Kandomere corrected.  "We live long; five times the normal span of Human life.  Children are rare and difficult, and I have none.  Yet I feel that having one would still not explain your irrational pig-headedness in this matter."

"Yeah, you definitely don't have kids," Ward said.

"If you will not go, you will not go.  But if you stay there are things you'll need to be aware of.  As your power grows, your magic will become detectable on a very real scale, whether you use it or not.  If you suffer great injury, even if you are on the verge of death, even if you die, magic will seek to heal you if it can; quickly if you have a wand, but slowly even without one.  This is important, since you will not be able to attend many hospitals for healing from this point on."

"What?" Ward said.  "Why?"

"Hospitals, as with most government buildings, are equipped with magic detectors.  In essence, magic is energy in the same way all things are energy, unique only in its form.  The method of finding it has been known for many years, but the technology to detect it en masse has existed for less than twenty.  Parliamentary buildings, some law enforcement buildings, airports, even large central terminals will employ detectors.  Some services bought privately you might still have access to - if you attended one of the smaller medical clinics, for example, you will likely encounter no difficulty."

"Okay, avoid hospitals and I can never fly again.  Got it.  Shit," Ward said, sighing deeply in dismay. "That fucking sucks, man, but fine, I can deal."

"That is not the end of it," Kandomere said.  "This is an age of technology; as time passes the presence of magic detection will increase, not decrease.  Your risk will grow with every year that passes.  If you do set off an alarm, you must be ready to run; although detectors cannot easily identify one person among many, even if you were one of twenty detained it would not take long for them to discover who and what you are."

"Speaking of that," Ward said, stubbornly ignoring his warning entirely.  "There are one or two other people who do know, you know?  They were kind of _there_ when I fried the Elf chick."

"Yes, that's true," Kandomere agreed.  "Tikka has gone to ground; my sources have seen no sign of her."

"She showed up at the award ceremony," Ward said.

"That is bold, even for Tikka," Kandomere said.  "She was in the crowd?"

"Yeah.  Just a friendly hello, I think, she didn't stick around.  But I definitely saw her there."

Strange.  Tikka's profile had always been self-serving; like so many Inferni before her, she came from an affluent background, from an old family who had believed unflinchingly in Elf superiority.  She had clearly broken from this in leaving her coven; perhaps the more humble roots of her compatriots in the Shield of Light had given her a different perspective.  Still, to be a fugitive highly sought after and yet appear on the fringes of so public a ceremony...

"It seems Tikka isn't finished with you," Kandomere observed.

"Ain't no accounting for taste," Ward said, shrugging when Kandomere glanced a question at him.  A loud rumble unexpectedly gurgled between them and Ward coughed sheepishly. 

"Sorry," he said.  "Took forever to ditch Nick after patrol; guy never shuts up.  We almost done here?  Because if all you wanted to do was convince me to leave you are shit out of luck, man."

"There is an opportunity for reconnaissance in three days; it is an ideal time to set some things in motion.  We will need to discuss this."

"That's Friday; I'm on shift Friday.  The hell kind of reconnaissance can I do with Nick in the car with me?"

"It's unlikely you will be in a car."

"How the fuck - no, know what, never mind, you are like a headache and half, you know that?  I can't think about this shit on an empty stomach.  You mind?" He gestured expansively to the cupboards around the kitchen, the glow of light over lacquer glancing off unblemished, unused surfaces.  Kandomere looked around with some interest; he'd had the apartment furnished by a stock company when he'd bought it eight years ago.  Like many of his safe houses, it had most of the modern conveniences of the age; top of the line appliances, plumbing, electricity, comfortable furnishings, all practical and unremarkable.  This one was in an area of low traffic and minimal crime, but he'd still ensured he and Ward arrived at separate times and he'd tucked his own distinctive hair and ears under a hat when he'd come up.  An Elf owning property outside Elftown was not remarkable, but an Elf and a Human meeting secretively there, or anywhere in the city, would have been instantly suspicious to anyone watching.   

"I would not mind; however, you will find no food here," Kandomere said.  "I hadn't accounted for hospitality when I suggested meeting at this location."

"Seriously?  You don't even have like a chocolate bar in here or something?  What kind of safe house is this?"

"An empty one.  Stay here; I will call for something.  Do you have a preference?"

"Whatever, man.  Something simple?  Pizza?"

Kandomere stared at him, and then said evenly, "No."

"Fine," Ward said, throwing up an exasperated hand.  "Get whatever you fucking want."

"Excellent.  Wait here."

"Yeah, where else would I go?  Hey, where's the bathroom?"

Kandomere pointed it out and left him to it.  He stepped onto the balcony to order, hanging up his phone to gaze in some curiosity at the world around him.  Most of his adult life, the many rolling decades of it, he had lived with some type of order and purpose, and on the whole things tended to be grey and tedious and familiar.  Since entering this secret arrangement with Daryl Ward, the world was somehow sharper, the energy of a divergent path a living thing beneath his feet and in his skin. 

For the first time in a long while, Kandomere found he was interested to see what came of tomorrow, since tomorrow was no longer as certain as it had been last week or last year or last decade.  He'd searched long for someone like Ward, someone he'd once thought to manipulate into helping him attain his own goals.  But Ward defied all attempts to manage him and made no effort to conceal that he would break from Kandomere at the first sign of deceit.  Ward was not a man to be easily swayed or corrected, his pride or stubbornness would see him dead first.  Kandomere would have to bend instead of this Human, for the partnership to work.  

The thought was a novel one.  Kandomere had yet to decide whether he hated that more than he liked it, or liked it more than he hated it.

He returned inside a few minutes later to find the Human frowning down at his phone.

"Do you not get signal here?" Ward asked.  "I got no service."

"Within these walls we may speak privately.  There is a localized three point jammer present; I've embedded one in every location I own.  You won't be able to use your phone unless you step outside, and I advise you only do so for the most innocuous conversations.  What we speak of here is treason of a very high order.  No one can know of it, including your family.  Your partner may be problematic in this, being as he's already aware of your magic, and might be able to detect it on you even if he wasn't.  Have you considered what to do about him?"

"Nick won't say anything," Ward said.

Kandomere eyed him silently and watched with wry interest as the memory of the time in Medical rolled over the Human.

"That was different," Ward muttered petulantly.  "That was like some crazy post-traumatic stress shit or something.  And he didn't say anything about me using magic then anyway.  He left it all to Tikka."

"Yes, thankfully in his many ramblings he managed to leave out the one detail that would have gotten you killed," Kandomere noted.  "And painted a target on Tikka's back instead."

"Yeah, okay," Ward said.  "That's a good point."

"So?"

"I don't know, man.  Bring him in, maybe?  I mean, of all people to understand fighting for racial freedom, it's Nick.  Not that we're friends or anything, but that's just how he rolls."

"In principle this seems ideal, but I'm reluctant to tell him anything of my own involvement in this until it becomes necessary.  I suggest for now instead you take pains to impress on him the need for utmost secrecy."

"Yeah," Ward said, "Nick's not big on secrecy.  That guy has no sense of personal boundaries.  Or common sense."

"I can see why you would make good partners," Kandomere said.

"Hey man, at least my partner gets his shit done."

"Montehugh is efficient in his way.  Interrogation is actually one of his stronger skill sets.  You are simply more stubborn than he is," Kandomere said.

"Thanks."

Kandomere sent Ward out some minutes later.  To anyone watching, a Human collecting food delivery would be much less remarkable than an Elf.  He endured the good-natured disgust Ward pretended at when they began eating; the Human clearly preferred more 'fast food' options, but Kandomere would not lower himself to that standard.  He ate his portion with efficiency; beef, chicken and lamb, lightly seasoned.  He ignored Ward's nonexistent manners; after working in law enforcement for several lifetimes, he was more than familiar with the Human proclivity for all manner of poor behavior where food was concerned.

The silence was welcome after fruitlessly arguing for the last thirty minutes.  Where there had been only the harsh scent of anger between them before, a flavor of peace and primal satisfaction colored Ward's scent now; it was a much more agreeable atmosphere than the previous hostility.  Eventually Ward seemed to stir from his single-minded consumption of the food and eyed with interest the difference in their meals.  He used a fork to point at the remnants of meat Kandomere picked through.

"Do you not eat bread or some shit?" Ward asked.  "That why you didn't want pizza?"

"I refused to order pizza because it's a disgusting example of how Humans somehow ruin even the most basic food items.  But no; Elves do not consume grain or fruits and vegetables as a rule.  We are carnivorous by nature, not omnivorous."

"Wow," Ward said, staring with both hands paused on his utensils.  "I guess that explains those huge fucking shark teeth.  I wondered."

Kandomere could feel the weight of Ward's gaze on him for the rest of the time they ate, but he was not embarrassed; there was little to be self-conscious about in any case.  Kandomere had long ago learned to be comfortable in his skin.  Nature had made him as he was and could not be changed.

"What's it like?" Ward asked.  "Being an Elf.  God knows I can't get Nick to shut up about being an Orc, especially now he's all high and mighty and blooded and shit."

Kandomere thought about it; it was an interesting question.  In his long life, he didn't think he had ever been asked such a thing before.  He had never been near enough or informal enough with someone of another race, that they might ask.

"Such things are difficult to define," he said at last, considering.  "What is it like to be Human?"

"Dangerous, apparently," Ward said.

"Elves are also dangerous as a rule.  Amongst each other they tend to be solitary.  Orcs look to family as clan above all.  Elves look mostly to themselves; at most they might form fleeting bonds of common purpose.  I have no children and likely never will.  I have not spoken to my birth family for more than one-hundred and fifty years.  They may yet be dead."

"That's -" Ward bit off what he would have said and Kandomere quirked a smile, unwillingly amused at his reticence.

"You mean to say it is sad, but for Elves, it is only normal.  The long-lived devote themselves to a cause, not to people."

"Leilah called Tikka her sister.  You know, before she, uh, died."

"A coven sister is an extension of a cause, not a family by right."

"I don't know, man, she seemed pretty damn broken up about her to me.  Or at least pissed off enough to try killing me over her," Ward said.

"Well, you do have a habit of infecting the non-Humans around you," Kandomere said.

"Whoever said Elves don't have a sense of humor never met you," Ward muttered darkly, and Kandomere looked away.  Elves did not normally lower themselves to humor.  It was considered quite perverse.  Yet it seemed only natural around Ward; the Human used humor as another might use a whole other language to communicate.  Surely their professional relationship would suffer if Kandomere did not speak to him in this way.

And it was entertaining in a sense, this learning the ways of Humans, and entertainment was something rare in an Elf's life.  It had never been politic or necessary to learn before, and yet the unexpected richness of it was more compelling than Kandomere had thought it might be.  Taboo.

"So what's up on Friday?  What's the deal?"

It was good of Ward to bring the discussion back on track; clearly Kandomere had lost the thread of it somewhere.

"There is a mixed-race protest planning to march; nothing unusual, more political propaganda than anything.  Your precinct has already been allocated for crowd control.  You and Jakoby will be assigned, of course.  The single Orc officer in the police force will be a triumphant political figurehead welcome at any racially-motivated event for years to come, I'm sure."

"Great," Ward sighed.

"There are three faces you will need to watch for; two Human, one Elf.  The Humans sympathize with the integrationist movement and are known contacts for the Shield of Light.  I will give you a tracker to place on one of them; the group has moved locations recently and we'll need to know their new base of operations.  They will likely be an ally in our endeavors.  The Elf is an assassin.  I suggest if you see him you find some excuse to shoot him on sight.  A traffic violation of some kind should suffice."

"I can tell working with you is going to be a barrel of fun," Ward said.  "Hey, one last thing before I forget.  You know, since we're about to commit treason together and all, I think there's one thing I really ought to know about you."

"What's that?" Kandomere asked.

"Dude, what the fuck's your name?  Because ain't no way I'm calling you 'sir' for the rest of this stupid whatever the hell it is we're doing.  That's for damn sure."

Yes, working with the Human would doubtlessly be exhausting, exasperating, completely foreign and possibly maddening.

But at least it would not be boring.


	3. Chapter 3

The wand went mysteriously missing from inventory on one dark evening in the height of spring. 

Kandomere heard about it from Montehugh, who had it in turn from two terrified security officers who'd arrived at work only to find their overnight counterparts unconscious and the building's security systems compromised.  All the doors and locks and computers had been professionally scrubbed of any helpful data, and surveillance showed nothing but static.  It was a disaster.

No one could say for certain who'd done it, but speculation ran fairly predictably in one direction.  The official report from the Leilah debacle was that Tikka was the only Bright still at large, and for most of the angry agents milling about it wasn't much of a stretch to imagine she might've come for the wand directly.  An internal investigation followed during which nothing at all was found, and Kandomere was forced to accept with manufactured calm the angry reprimands he received from the Director, from upper management, and from his political supporters.  An Elf in Kandomere's position always had numerous political supporters.

It took a great many weeks for the furor to die down.  In that time, Kandomere launched an exhaustive pursuit of the local Inferni covens, driving them out, killing those few they did manage to capture, losing an equal number of agents in the process.  The lives of the Inferni he cared for not at all; the lives of the agents he honored publically at the division office.  Death was a distant affair when one counted time in centuries, but Kandomere had always been careful to respect it among his agents; expressing genuine regret when he could, faking it when he couldn't.  It was a departure from the way other Elves ran their departments.  But it inspired a surprisingly strong loyalty from agents, and this was of course an indispensible currency to have on hand at any given moment.

Ward was not fooled.

"Man, are all Elves fucking psychopaths, or is it just you?"

"It is a common trait," Kandomere admitted candidly.

"That wasn't a compliment," Ward said, and he'd been gesturing sharply, his anger breathtakingly vivid.  "You're not supposed to just _agree._ "

"It can be neither compliment not censure," Kandomere replied.  "It's simply true.  Entire generations of your kind will die in the lifespan of one Elf.  All Elves are prone to psychopathy; the only variation is in how it presents.  As you might have guessed, this means empathy tends to be lacking."

"If you expect me to work with you, then you better find some really fucking fast," Ward said.  "That woman wasn't some pawn on a chessboard; she was a living, breathing hostage, and that coven would have killed her if I'd backed off the way you wanted me to."

"The danger to you -"

"Right, because you wouldn't have thrown me to the wolves just as fast if I hadn't turned out to be this big-ass magical battery you've been waiting for."

Kandomere couldn't deny it; the Human wasn't precisely wrong.

"It wasn't that her life was worthless to me; only that your life was worth more.  I would have tried to save her if I'd thought the attempt had a reasonable margin for success.  There is a Human expression: the ends justified the means."

"This isn't fucking _math_ ," Ward had growled.  "You can't just add two lives and then subtract one!  No end can justify meaningless death; isn't that the whole reason you pulled me into this shit in the first place?"

And _that_ left Kandomere in a surprising quandary and with a great many things to think about.

Dealings with Ward had since been rocky, or perhaps it was more truthful to say they had always been rocky.  Ward owed him no trust and made it clear he gave none, and that was well enough; those instincts might keep the Human alive one day.  They settled into an uneasy truce and for a time Kandomere wondered if it might go on that way indefinitely, but: 

The dynamic changed on a Thursday, and it happened in the way everything around Ward seemed to happen; at speed, lacking grace, and without warning.

Their communication was rudimentary at best; when one was discussing treason, there was really no safe avenue for contact.  Email left an indelible paper trail and likewise their phone records could be too easily accessed by others.  Kandomere could arrange burner phones with military grade jammers but not quickly, not without risking suspicion.  So he and Ward settled on a once weekly meeting at a rotating safe house on the caveat if one of them failed to appear one day the other should assume the worst and plan accordingly.  Ward, of course, maintained that no exit strategy would ever be needed, and mulishly ignored all efforts to convince him otherwise.

Kandomere arrived early to the safe house on their prearranged day, and at first all seemed in order.  He donned his normal paltry disguise of a hat and sunglasses, and considered absently that if this partnership went on he might need to invest in more sophisticated camouflage.  He supposed in this he, too, was somewhat stubborn; it was a strange thing to hide what he was.

He entered the building and made it all the way to the appropriate floor before he became aware of any danger.  Later he'd reflect on his own lack of observation, because he was already reaching for the door of the apartment before he realized his error.  And even then it was instinct that stopped him before reason could tell him why. 

The safe house already smelled of Ward, who should have been yet an hour behind Kandomere.  And more than that: there was someone else with him.

Kandomere drew his sidearm and flicked off the safety, scenting the air as thoroughly as he knew how.  Ward was clearly present; uninjured, but vaguely agitated.  The door had no sign of forced entry, but perhaps there wouldn't be if Ward had been compelled to use his key.  He'd been near Jakoby lately; the Human denied their friendship with his every breath but it left a stamp on Ward’s skin regardless, and the Orc's presence was strong.  But Jakoby was not the second person in the room.  This scent was lighter, younger; whoever it was had been injured and their distress was a stain on the air.  They were unconscious; they were also an Elf.

Kandomere stared at the door.  There weren't many explanations he could imagine for why there might be another Elf in his safe house.  The most obvious one was that Tikka had found Ward faster than expected and had either run afoul of the man (unlikely) or some other violent force (very likely).  Kandomere started to re-holster his weapon and then hesitated.  That was only the most obvious answer; it was also possible an Elf of more sinister intentions had found Ward, forced him to come here and lie in wait as bait in some sort of trap, and then - proceeded to pass out?  Been overpowered by Ward?  Decided to take an extended nap?

There seemed little point in speculating without more evidence.  Kandomere looked down the sightline of his gun and opened the door without announcing himself.  He stepped just over the threshold and then stared. 

It was not Tikka.

"About time," Ward said, but not lightly or even sarcastically.  He was grim and severe as he stood over the Elf man - boy, really.  The thin wisp of his unconscious form was distinct and telling; his limbs were long and almost disjointed in the way young Elves often were before they passed their first half-century.  Whoever he was, he was barely more than a child.

"Explain," Kandomere said, keeping the gun trained on the intruder as he stepped through, reaching back with one hand to close the door behind him.

"Kid’s a runaway; was hiding in one of the industrial areas, holed up in a warehouse.  Dumb luck I was on the joint task force raiding the adjoining building for a drugs bust.  Caught him taking off and tagged him for questioning, put him in the car."

"And then brought him here under the mistaken impression this was a police department interview room," Kandomere concluded.  "That seems a reasonable error."

"Maybe you could try not being a comedian for five minutes," Ward said.

"Unwise; I have no idea how we'd relate to each other if I did that," Kandomere said.  "Was he unconscious when you brought him here?  If he was conscious I will need to burn this location as a safe house, I hope you realize.”

"Relax, man; he's been out cold for an hour.  Didn't need to involve child family services since he's technically an adult. I told Nick he had relatives here and what the hell was a tripped out kid going to tell us about the drugs bust next door anyway?  Not sure he believed me, though."

" _I_ don’t believe you," Kandomere said. "So far I've heard nothing to justify this boy's presence.  Surely even if he does have far removed relatives you can’t have mistaken me for one of them."

"This the part where I’m supposed to live down to your expectations about ignorant Humans and say all Elves look alike?" Ward asked dryly.

Kandomere blinked.  That was exactly what he’d been expecting.

"Right, like I’m not a black dude in one of the most racist fucking organizations in the United States," Ward said.  "In case you were wondering, all blacks don’t look alike either.  Asshole."

Kandomere felt his eyes drawn almost involuntarily to Ward's skin, which was dark with a richness of color the Elf had rarely seen and even more rarely had cause to admire.  The Human civil rights movement had happened while Kandomere was in another part of the world and truthfully he’d nearly forgotten its existence.  To an Elf, all Humans simply scented as Humans; ethnicity was a passing footnote, and sometimes not even that.

Kandomere looked down at the boy, holstering his sidearm absently.  Ward had hit closer to the mark than he knew.  All Elves were pale; their genome was a stunted thing with little variation, and the vast majority of them _did_ look alike.  Once, more than two millennia past, that was different; but then the Dark Lord came and his shadow left all things bleached into tiresome sameness.  Kandomere touched his own blue hair, untucking it from the hat; while not unusual to dye hair something other than the pale blonde they were all born with, most Elves chose something less - outlandish.  But Kandomere had never been good at blending in.

“Look," Ward said, clearly making an effort to tone down his aggression.  "I didn't bring him here for this shit.  The kid does have relatives but they're sure as shit not here."

"Then why bring him?" Kandomere asked.

"He has magic," Ward said, and all thoughts of the Human's idiocy fled.

"How?"

"Don't freak out on me, man.  Not like he had a wand or anything.  He was trying to escape over a fence and I took him down.  I could feel it in him right away."

"But he did no magic that you could see, nothing obvious," Kandomere prodded.

"Not at first.  But I could definitely tell he had it; when I had him pinned it's like it was there just under his skin, you know?  Didn't know magic could do that without a wand."

"Yes, that's only what I've been trying to impress on you ever since we met," Kandomere said sharply.

"Alright, don't get your panties in a twist."

"Did anyone else see?" Kandomere asked, approaching the boy as he lay sprawled on the sofa with his face in unnatural repose.  "And why is he unconscious?"  Kandomere eyed Ward speculatively.

"Hey, no man, I had nothing to do with that.  Kid was like the road runner, fast as hell; when I caught him I said something stupid about the magic and he freaked, I mean, _freaked_.  Started yelling in Elvish or some shit, and I could feel it building up in him like lightning or something, I can't even describe it.  Everything went to shit, the magic just seemed to go haywire, knocked the dumpster five feet.  Nick heard the noise and came running.  Kid was awake for a few minutes but he passed out cold in the car."

"Convenient," Kandomere said.

"Would’ve been more convenient if he hadn’t tried to kill me using magic," Ward said. "He's lucky it was Nick and me; anyone else and he’d be behind bars, or worse."

"Then I take it you brought Jakoby to this building," Kandomere sighed as he knelt and put two fingers to the boy’s carotid artery, counting beats silently.

"Had him drop us at the next building over," Ward admitted.  "Waited until he drove off before I came in here, but yeah.  He didn't want to leave."

"So I may need to burn this location after all, for safety."

"Nick's pretty on board, but whatever man, burn it if you want to.  As long as it ain’t literally."

Kandomere chose not to inform Ward that, while impractical, one could not discount arson as a last resort.  The Human would not agree, but then, Ward's exit strategy was to bury his head in the sand until someone else came along and chopped it off.

"He seems well enough," Kandomere said, scenting for as much as he could perceive past the boy’s pain.  He was not bleeding; this pain had a different, less tangible source. "I suspect magical exhaustion only. How do you know this boy is a runaway?"

"He’s in the database.  Oddly enough, _not_ marked as a magic user at large."

"Do you still have the missing persons bulletin?" Kandomere asked.

"Yeah, I made a print out with his demographics.  Why?” Ward said. 

“There are code words used when a magic user is suspected but not confirmed, or when someone in power is aware but doesn't want others to know.  Did it come with an APB?"

"No.  Just the average missing persons.  Here." Ward handed over the bulletin and Kandomere scanned it, feeling tension unspool from his muscles as no glaring markers became obvious.

"It seems clear," Kandomere said.  "Although odd.  Elf missing persons are rarely classed as runaways.  More frequently they're presumed dead after an altercation, and the vast majority go to the Inferni.  But few covens will accept an Elf, even a Bright, if they're being searched for by relatives.  Elves have infinite resources and too much money; the chance of his discovery should have been quite high.  Yet this boy's been missing almost four months."

"Yeah, I thought it was weird too," Ward said.  "Right up until he tried to kill me."

"It's doubtful he meant to kill you.  You confronted him; if his magic is active it would have lashed out in his defense without needing much direction from him."

"Thanks, I feel so much better," Ward said.  "What the hell are we going to do with this kid?  Take him back to his family?  What if they're the ones that kicked him out?  He's got magic; maybe they thought he was more trouble than he was worth."

"Unlikely," Kandomere said.  "Or the boy would never have made it to the streets.  Even if they did let him go instead of turning him in, all any Elf family need do is inform the proper authorities to have him caught.  A Bright of his age would be highly sought after; he's young enough to be easily manipulated into doing the bidding of more powerful people.  And if he couldn't be convinced he could have been easily silenced."

Ward digested this for a moment, and Kandomere could scent his revulsion at the very idea.  "Fucking Elf psychopaths, man."

"Not all," Kandomere corrected.  "The family said nothing, but still had police divisions issue the bulletin.  They want him back."

"To use him?" Ward asked.

"They could have lobbied for that by turning him in.  Elves in power have much of it to give for the asking, and they are happy to be asked when there's a magic user on the table."

"So, what?  We just drive him back up to his parents' door, drop him off and say have a nice life?"

"Perhaps we should ask him directly what he wants," Kandomere said, gesturing wryly.  They both looked at the boy, who was stirring at last from his rest, long limbs moving sluggishly as he started to wake.

"He'll be hungry.  Get one of the protein packs from the kitchen and something for him to drink," Kandomere instructed Ward.  "Or there's meat in the freezer that can be defrosted."

"Yeah, alright," Ward said, backing away before the boy could see him and padding off down the hall.

The boy was slow in waking, although Elves would normally rouse quite quickly.  But if he'd been running for months Kandomere strongly suspected he was malnourished on top of being exhausted.  The boy's personal hygiene was adequate, if not completely upheld, so he'd been getting help from somewhere discreet.  An Elf on the streets of Los Angeles should have been easily remarked on, yet he'd managed to stay out of the public eye for months.  Impressive.

When he finally did open his eyes, the same fixed black on white coloration every Elf had, they focused on Kandomere knelt down next to him.  At first he was all over wary confusion but that changed to panic moments later.

"Be still," Kandomere said.  "I mean you no harm."

The boy made an odd keening sound and lurched upright, retching a second later as vertigo hit and sent him careening back down to the couch.  Kandomere stayed patiently where he was, making no effort to approach more closely.

The boy panted for a few minutes, finally pushing himself up again more gingerly and casting his eyes immediately to the ground.  Distantly, Kandomere could hear Ward moving around the kitchen one room apart, the ding of the microwave working and then the sizzle of meat on a pan, the quiet purr of a high end blender at work with a protein shake.  Good choices; if the boy's weakness was any indication he'd do well with as many nutrients in him as he could reasonably stomach.

"Where am I?" the boy asked, his voice a raspy croak.  His fear was potent and clear, poisoning the air around him and seeping into every crack in the room.  Kandomere frowned, settling himself back further on his heels with both hands propped on his legs, palm up.  It was as nonthreatening as he knew how to be.

"You're safe," Kandomere said.  "My associate brought you here."

"Please, just let me go," the boy said, tightening one hand on his own leg and the other on the couch arm until his knuckles stood out in stark relief.  "I didn't mean to do it.  I won't do it again."

"Won't do what again?" Kandomere asked.  The boy tensed and hunched into a ball until he was as small as he could possibly make himself, curling around the wound of the unspoken truth between them.

This was not the right way to go about this.  Kandomere breathed deeply and reluctantly considered what Ward might say in this situation.  No, that wasn't helpful; for all Kandomere was lacking in empathy, Ward was little better, jaded as he was.  Kandomere considered instead what Montehugh might say; the man had a child and a surprisingly congenial nature about him at times.  But no; Montehugh would treat the boy as a suspect, just as Kandomere was doing.

He considered what Jakoby would say, the Orc who had more compassion and kindness in his heart than most people acquired in their whole lives.

"What's your name?" Kandomere asked.

"You already know," the boy said.

"My name is Kandomere," he said, leadingly.  The boy shook his head, despair welling into his scent.  Kandomere blinked away the black gleam of it.

"I promise you are safe now," Kandomere said, wondering how else he could make himself appear harmless.  It was a difficult thing to consider; it had never before been to his advantage to seem meek or mild.

"Hey," Ward said from the doorway, softly.  The boy jumped, and there was terror in his every heartbeat, deepening as the Human approached.  Kandomere gestured subtly, and Ward stopped behind him, kneeling down as well.  "Don't think I introduced myself before.  I'm Daryl.  Just frying up some food for us; you're probably starving.  You okay with steak, kid?"

The boy looked up involuntarily at the thought of food; hunger was strong beneath all the other feelings crowding inside him.  Kandomere had a brief moment of nostalgia; it had been centuries since he last felt as strongly or as much as this boy.  Time would dull that out, but for now all things were fresh and immediate, not mired in the forgotten passage of lifetimes lived.  There was something to be envied in the boy's ability to feel so deeply, even if what he felt most acutely now was fear.

"I -" the boy started to say, then fell silent, reluctant.

"Not going to make me eat it all by myself, are you?" Ward teased, gently, and Kandomere looked at him out of the corner of his eye, quietly amazed.  He had never seen the man so docile, except for the one obvious exception in Medical when Ward had been as false as it was possible to be.  But he seemed genuinely concerned; clearly gentleness was not as foreign to him as Kandomere would have believed.

"I - if you're - I don't understand," the boy said.

"Look," Ward said, still mild, "I ain't going to lie; yeah, I brought you here, and yeah I saw you use magic." At this, the boy's whole being seemed to flinch, that wounded pain flickering in the core of him.  Kandomere winced as red pattered across his vision; he could feel a headache forming and rubbed at his temple with three fingers.  He could see Ward look at him, and for a moment might have mistaken the Human's attention for concern.

"But we're not going to hurt you," Ward continued, soothing.  "Right now I just want to make sure you get something to eat.  You look like a stiff breeze could blow you over, kid."

Kandomere blinked, seeing the boy blink in turn as they both considered this nonsensical declaration.  Ward saw their confusion and sighed.

"Means you're too thin.  Look, you want the steak?  It'll be done in a few.  Protein shake for dessert."

"I - yes.  Please," the boy said, common sense winning out over caution.

"Good," Ward said, levering himself up and strolling casually away.

"He's Human," the boy said warily as Ward disappeared.

"Quite," Kandomere said, thinking ruefully that Ward was that and much more.

"I just - don't understand."

"Ward is never easily understood," Kandomere said.  "But he's usually honest, at least, and trustworthy.  You can relax; no threat will you find here.  _Be at ease in my home, for your safety is as my own_."

It was unwise, perhaps, to give the boy these words, especially in Övüsi.  The sinuous sound of Elvish was like a shock to his system.  Kandomere had little enough cause to speak it these days and always did so cautiously in any case.  Övüsi in its purest form was a power all its own that sat close to the heart of every Elf and could narrow magic into intent.  With enough skill and control behind it an Elf could subtly bend the will of another using Övüsi alone.

"Oh," the boy gasped, eyes dilating wide with surprise as the binding settled deeply between them, catching on blood and bone.  A binding oath was powerful; it could be broken in dire need, but it was a wrenching, terrible thing to do, and always exacted a price.

"I mean you no harm," Kandomere repeated.

The boy relaxed, sinking with relief into the cushions behind him.  " _Well met_ ," he replied faintly.

"Are you warm enough?" Kandomere asked in English, finally standing so he might retreat to the nearby arm chair and perch more reasonably there.

"I'm fine," the boy said.  "And you can use my name."

"You haven't given it to me yet," Kandomere said.  The boy looked at him blankly, then shrugged in awkward acceptance.

"Koltya," he said.

"Koltya," Kandomere repeated, nodding at a trust given.  "Food and warmth are something easily provided.  But I sense you've also been hurt."

"No one can fix that," the boy said softly.

"There is much I can fix that others can't.  Will you tell me?"

Koltya's mouth twisted into a sneer, not of anger but something more insidious.  Self-loathing.  "The Human already said it.  I have magic."

"Yes.  Has it done you damage in some way?  Have you hurt someone with it?"

"No," Koltya said, and the fear which had been bleeding out of his skin came roaring back.  Kandomere flinched before he could stop himself, exhaling slowly.

"Are you certain?" Kandomere said, and knew he was pushing, but this was important.  "I must know.  Ward showed me your missing persons bulletin.  Your family has been looking for you.  When we bring you back to them, will we find there's a reason you've run?"

"I've never hurt anyone!" the boy cried, and he was very angry as he shot upright again.  "I have magic!  Isn't that reason enough to run?"

"Whoa," Ward said, stopping in the doorway with two plates and a glass balanced in his hands.  "What'd I miss?"

"Much," Kandomere said, gesturing, and the Human came forward.  The smell of cooked meat was strong.   Kandomere rarely felt much hunger, but his headache was sharp and unpleasant and the smell of lightly seasoned food was a pleasant balm.  He considered getting up to get a protein pack of his own, little though the thought appealed.

"Here," Ward said, and Kandomere blinked as a plate was shoved under his nose.  He looked up to see the Human proffering it with an unreadable expression.  He took it automatically, confused.

"Don't let it get cold," Ward ordered, handing him utensils, and vanished back down the hallway.

"Isn't he a police officer?" Koltya asked, already several large bites into his meal.  The boy's eyes were hazy with satisfaction, his body likely already working to process the nutrition after probable long absence of it. 

"He is," Kandomere said, looking down at the steak he'd been given.  His headache receded to the background as he set the plate in his lap and tentatively cut a portion to eat.  He glanced down the hall again but Ward was clattering dishes into the sink and remained out of sight.

"Is he also your _friend-assistant-servant-chattel_?" the boy asked, and Kandomere blinked.  The Övüsi word had no direct equivalent in English, and the meaning was vague at best, meant to encompass one of a hundred roles two people might have when one person was employed or beholden to another.  And it had originally been used to describe a much more sinister relationship between two people.  It was not a term one usually heard in polite company, and the boy's voice had been bitter and shaky as he said it.

"No," Kandomere said.  "I am no one's master, and Ward couldn't be subservient if his life depended on it.  In this, we are equals."

"I heard that," Ward said, reappearing to stand leaning against a wall, another protein shake in his hands.  Kandomere looked a question at him, and the Human shrugged.  "There were just the two steaks.  You've got to expand your shopping list, man."

"I hadn't intended for more than two people to be eating here," Kandomere said, and started to offer the steak back to Ward but the man waved him away.

"It's fine, don't worry about it."

"Elves and Humans can't be equals," Koltya interjected, setting aside his plate and taking up the shake.

"Well, there's at least two that can," Ward said.

Kandomere eyed him as he ate, thinking it best they not tell the boy that working together to date had been an exercise in frustration for both of them, equal or no.

"Once we are finished here, we can take you back to your family," Kandomere said as he watched Koltya gulp down the shake.  At his words the boy froze, lowering the glass slowly with his eyes fixed eerily on it.  "I understand they've been looking for you.  They'll have been worried."

"No," Koltya said.  "I'm not going back."

"Did they hurt you?" Ward asked, gently.

"No!" Koltya looked genuinely startled to be asked, reeling back.  "No, of course not."

"Did you hurt them?" Ward asked, unconsciously repeating Kandomere's earlier question.

"No!" the boy cried, now looking outraged.  It was a better look on him than the terror from before.  "I wouldn't!"

"Then what's the problem?" Ward asked, sipping at his own drink.  "They kick you out?  Have unreasonable rules, a curfew?  You got ten siblings and just needed to get out into the real world?"

"It's not like that."

"Then what?" Ward asked, still patient, carefully prodding, but Kandomere already knew.

"You haven't hurt them," Kandomere said.  "But you're afraid you will."  No, that wasn't quite right.  There was guilt in the boy's scent, a sense of impending disaster, but not on such a small scale.  It was bigger than that.

"You're afraid of what will happen to them when it's discovered you have magic," Kandomere realized.

The boy hunched over, the empty glass and plate set on the ground at his feet.

"Everyone's afraid of that," the boy said.  "For good reason."

Kandomere knew that, of course.  He knew that intimately well.

"I love my family," Koltya said haltingly, the tips of his ears flushing, a brief starburst of color filming over his eyes.  "I know that's not, not usual.  My parents; we're close.  They never thought they'd have me, my sister's almost two hundred, she hasn't spoken to us for as long as I can remember, and I know that's how most Elf families work, but.  Not.  For me.  My family owns one of the tech companies; I was planning to stay in the business, stay close.  I never wanted - my grandmother has magic, and the government, they -"

The boy stopped, folding himself almost in half again as he hugged his knees close to his chest.  Kandomere was reminded anew of how young the Elf was; he might technically be an adult, but most Elves took nearly a hundred years to fully mature past adolescence, and this boy couldn't have more than thirty or forty. 

"I don’t want to hurt people," the boy whispered, finally, with the wrench of speaking a closely guarded fear. "I know that’s what Brights do.  That's what the government takes them away to do.  My father used to say that - my grandmother - please don’t make me -"

"Hey, whoa kid, no," Ward said.  "No one’s hurting anyone; definitely not you. Calm down."

"You will," the boy said, despairing, looking directly at Kandomere. "I know who you are, I know what you want.  You'll take me away.  You’ll make me - it’s what you _do_." 

"It's what someone in my position would normally do.  But it’s not what _I_ do," Kandomere said.

"Liar!" The boy shouted, probably loud enough to be heard in the unit next door, and his magic crackled into life like a living force between them all, building quickly on the fear and anger.  And Kandomere was reminded sharply that a Bright even without a wand could still be a very real danger.

Kandomere reached for him, meaning only to calm him, and the boy recoiled, flailing off the couch to crash hard into the floor and from there to stumble directly into Ward’s grasp as light blazed up from his skin to defend him.

The light snuffed out hard as Ward put both hands on the boy’s shoulders.

The Human said something, a garbled gasp of sound, and he and the boy both tumbled back down to the floor like puppets with their strings cut.  Kandomere stared at them, finding his hand still outstretched in surprise.  He retracted it.

The boy moaned, gagging, and backpedaled using just his feet until he barked up against the couch again, gasping.

"What did you do?" The boy cried. "It’s gone!" 

"Chill the fuck _out_ , kid," Ward rasped from where he lay prone, groaning as he propped himself up on his elbow.  "You said you didn't want it anyway."

The boy looked ready to bolt, his eyes flying wildly around the room to settle unerringly on the exit door.  But he'd have to go straight over Ward to get there, and even if superior speed and reflexes might let him try, Kandomere was closer to it and prepared to catch him.  Kandomere rose languidly to his feet, pretending to brush invisible dust off his sleeves as Ward and Koltya both looked up at him. 

"Well," Kandomere told Ward serenely as he stepped over, extending a hand down to help him.  "That's one way of telling others what you are."

"Shut the fuck up," Ward groaned, taking the proffered hand.  They both flinched as magic arched heavily between them, Ward's fingers clenching down instinctively.  Kandomere recovered enough to haul him up, letting go as soon as he could.  Ward looked confused as he stared down at his own two hands as if they were snakes.

"You have magic," the boy said, looking equal parts confused and horrified.  "But you're Human.  How is that possible?"

"There's a story to that," Ward said, shaking out his fingers briskly.  "But I ain't telling it.  All you got to know is I'm a Bright, not that I ever wanted to be.  Would have been pretty happy not knowing about it, actually, but can't exactly change it now."

"How can he be a Bright?" the boy asked, turning to Kandomere instinctively as he looked for a more authoritative answer.  Kandomere sighed, putting his own hands in his pockets.  His fingers were tingling as painfully as Ward's likely were, but he had more dignity than to show it.

"As Ward said, that is a long story.  Suffice it to say, you can see the evidence with your own eyes.  Tell me how you discovered you had magic."

"I," the boy started, still clearly shocked to have discovered this very strange thing.  He shuffled himself back up onto the couch and settled with a new wariness.  "My grandmother was visiting, they let her - well, she's allowed to see us.  She had to go and she hugged me goodbye.  I don't know what happened, she's hugged me a hundred times before, but this time was different."  Koltya swallowed roughly, shame and grief heavy on his features.  "I think they made her do something - really terrible.  I could smell, um," he stumbled, glancing at Ward, and chose a more politically correct term, "I could _see_ she was really shook up.  When she hugged me it was like there was something in her pulling something out of me."

"That's probably more accurate than you realize," Kandomere said.

"She told me to run," the boy continued.  "As far and fast as I could.  Said she'd die before she told them about me, that I'd be found out if I stayed, and there was no time.  I didn't even tell my parents.  Well, I mean, I left them a note.  I didn't know where to go or what to do."

"And yet your parents came looking for you anyway, even going to the police when they couldn't find you.  And you've been getting some help," Kandomere prodded gently.  The boy ducked his head but finally nodded a moment later.

"Yeah, um, my sister.  She found me.  She told me that she has it too; magic.  Not strong, I don't think either of us have it that strong, but it's there.  She told me that's why she had to stay away, but when my grandmother told her - anyway, she's been giving me things when she can, helping.  She works with one of the development companies, so she knows which buildings have power, which are off the grid."

"Your entire family," Kandomere mused out loud, almost to himself.

"Not my mom," the boy said.

"Your father?"

"A little," the boy said, and then seemed to realize exactly what he'd given away.  He went bone white beneath the wash of his pale skin.

"You can't hurt them," Koltya said, shakily, as if trying to convince himself.  "You're bound to my safety."

Kandomere wanted to tell him not to be naive; of course he could hurt them.  Not only did the boy's family not fall under the oath Kandomere had given, but on top of that once they left this location it would no longer be binding.  And of course he could have hired any number of other people to circumvent the binding for him, had the boy's entire family killed, even, if he'd been so inclined.  It would probably be a kindness to teach the boy this, that he might not make the same mistake again, that he might protect himself better in future, help him to lose some of that impossible innocence so he was be prepared for the hard life ahead.

But Koltya's fear and guilt and love were stronger than Kandomere's indifference.

"Even if we weren't bound," he settled on saying.  "I wouldn't hurt them.  Your family's safety is as important to me as your own."

"Why?" Koltya asked.  Kandomere could see that he wanted desperately to believe but was too wary, too suspicious.

"Look, kid," Ward said, breaking in at last.  "I know it goes against the grain, but you can trust Kandomere.  He has your best interests at heart.  The guy wants to revolutionize the entire world."

"Not the entire world," Kandomere said.  "That's far too ambitious.  We can start with the North American continent."

"Yeah," Ward agreed sarcastically.  "Let's start small.  That makes sense."

"You needn't fear," Kandomere told Koltya.  "When does your grandmother next visit?"

"Every other Saturday for two hours around five o'clock," Koltya said.  "Always."

"Then you will need to be there the next time she arrives, and if you bring your sister with you discreetly that might be wise.  It would be best to send you into hiding as a single unit, if your family is willing of course.  And if they aren't then you must decide what you will do."

"Into hiding?  But.  There's nowhere to hide.  Not from the government," the boy said.

"I _am_ the government," Kandomere said.  "It would be impossibly difficult if you were doing this alone, but you aren't.  I will make arrangements."  It was risky; it was extremely risky, actually, not least of which because Koltya knew who he was.  One word out of place, one moment using his name where someone else might hear, and Kandomere's life and by association all lives connected with his own would come under suspicion.  Thankfully he had no spouse or offspring to be endangered, but Ward would be as much at risk as Kandomere, if not more so.  Kandomere glanced a question at the Human and found him watching with opaque eyes, unreadable.  He scented subtly and found the man's emotions locked down tight, some combination of surprise and vague remorse and amusement seeping through faintly.

"Going to be tricky," Ward said.  "Especially if grandma was volun-told she'd be working for the government.  They ain't going to let her go easily."

"No, please," Koltya said, pleading.  "Don't leave her there."

"Do you believe your family would go with you?"

"Yes, they would, we all would.  We've been afraid so long - but we can't go without her."

"You won't, of course," Kandomere said.  "You will go together or not at all."

Ward scented suddenly of surprised gratitude and satisfaction, so much so Kandomere glared at him, wondering with some suspicion what the Human was up to. 

"Secrecy will be paramount," Kandomere said.  "You can't tell your family who we are, not any of them; not our names, not how you met us, not how their escape came to be; nothing.  You would put our lives in grave danger to do so.  I will require an oath from you."

"Anything," the boy said.  "Anything."

Yes, an oath.  He would have to spend some time crafting it, find the precision of wording he needed to make a lasting vow of secrecy. 

"Jakoby knows of this boy," Kandomere said to Ward, thinking out loud.  "You will need to ensure his silence."

"Dude, nothing can keep that guy silent.  But I'll make sure he doesn't say anything too incriminating."

Something in Ward's attitude had changed.  The hostility that invaded so much of their interactions was less; Kandomere might even go so far as to say it had eased into something more curious than antagonistic.  The suspicion had mellowed into a grudging confidence and almost respect.

"I think you find perverse enjoyment in putting me in awkward situations," Kandomere told Ward crossly.

"Well," Ward said, shrugging with a lazy smirk.  "You're not wrong."


	4. Chapter 4

Under Ward's relentless prodding, Kandomere eventually agreed to bring in Jakoby.  He then had the dubious pleasure of swearing the Orc to secrecy on pain of clan banishment - a fate worse than death as far as an Orc was concerned - and listened as patiently as he could to the man ramble on endlessly about Ward, the amazing things he could do, his loyalty as a partner, how Jakoby would die to keep him safe, on and on.  Ward was no help at all, sitting in the corner of the safe house and smirking while Kandomere thought uncharitably about removing Jakoby from this world entirely if he didn't _shut up_. 

"It's an honor, sir, a real honor," Jakoby finally concluded, glowing and stuttering beneath Kandomere's steady attention.   Kandomere felt some vague satisfaction at this evidence of his ongoing ability to intimidate; after working in secret with Ward for months he'd almost begun to doubt he still had the skill.  Apparently Ward was simply an annoying exception to the rule.

"You realize you can tell no one," he reminded the Orc again.  "Officer Ward's life depends on it.  My life and yours will also depend on it if we are found as accessories to his magic.  You must be willing at a moment's notice to do as you are bid; to fight, to retreat, to leave if necessary."

"I'm ready," Jakoby said, then declared dramatically, "It's a time of heroes, and I want to be part of it."

"Ain't going to matter anyway," Ward said.  "I'm not using magic, so won't ever get caught."

"I will also require you be prepared to knock your partner unconscious and drag him to safety in another country if I tell you to," Kandomere told Jakoby.

"Don't even fucking think about it," Ward said.

Kandomere spent an entire week after that waiting for their delicate balance to end with all three of them dead or incarcerated.  But time ticked on without interruption and eventually he reluctantly shelved his seventeen contingency plans for their escape and settled into moving forward with more of their strategy.  Often things went surprisingly well between the three of them.  Other times -

"I told you to be on hand for the operation on Eighth.  Your tardiness placed the whole team in jeopardy.  If I can't rely on you -"

"Shut the fuck up and get off your high horse," Ward snarled, rummaging through one drawer after another and opening cabinets seemingly at random.  They were at another safe house; this one was located in a seedier part of the city but it had been the only one to hand when Kandomere had received Ward's call.  The burner phones were new and they tried to use them sparingly, but this had been an exceptional case.

"I can't control when crime goes down in this city," Ward said.  "We got called out to a scene on West Fiftieth, and I work for the LA Police Department, not the fucking magic Feds.  I can't exactly tell dispatch to go find somebody else because I'm busy doing fucking undercover work for my off the books revolutionary-mafia-benefactor, can I?  As it was, Nick had to stay for cleanup."  He finally found what he was looking for and yanked out a whole role of bandaging, snagging a bottle of rubbing alcohol on the way and forcefully throwing himself into a chair which squeaked across the floor and threatened to send him tumbling to the ground.  "Fuck."

"I'm not affiliated with the mafia or organized crime," Kandomere said.

"Magic's been banned like two hundred years; I think in pretty much any book anywhere the shit we're doing would be considered crime.  I don't know how organized, though.  Give me those scissors."

Kandomere gave him the scissors, watching him fumble them for some minutes before the Human glared up at him, holding them back out impatiently.

"Seriously, do I got to do everything around here?  Get over here and help me out.  I got a piece of glass in my arm the size of my hand.  It ain't coming out on its own and _someone_ made it clear I can't go to a hospital."

Kandomere fought the urge to roll his eyes, which was a strange and disturbingly Human impulse.  That had begun to happen more and more, recently; the odd sense of otherness as urges he'd not had in hundreds of years made themselves known.  He thought with some irritation that soon he would need to find a way to dilute the flavor of Ward's intense emotion, and even of Jakoby's.  Some behavior variance was acceptable, but Kandomere had to draw the line at emulating bizarre Human mannerisms.

Kandomere waved Ward back and the chair squeaked on its legs again as they re-situated with the Elf sat crossways on the table.  He efficiently cut away at Ward's shirt to reveal the injury beneath.

"You could have gone to one of the smaller clinics.  You did not go because it offends your ego to do so.  The injury is slight.  You should not even require stitches."

"My ego?  What are you, my fucking old lady?  And fuck off I won't need stitches, that shit's in deep."

Working with Ward was both a blessing and a curse.  The Human was quick on his feet, innovative and skilled, but he was also ornery, boorish, pigheaded and cynical.  One would think only the first part of his character could be of interest, but Kandomere was finding as their partnership went on that there was little about Ward he did not find interesting.

Ward did in fact require stitches, the tools for which Kandomere plucked neatly from his hands after shooing his restless, dirty fingers away.

"Ow," Ward said sarcastically when the needle slid from him for the last time, completing a short row of evenly spaced thread.

"If you mean to garner my sympathy, you should know: I have none.  And I am more than aware of your tolerance to both humiliation and pain.  What little you've had of both this night you will recover from."

"Where do you even get off, man?  Like my arm doesn't look like this on account of your fucking war -"

"I did warn you that our efforts would not come without risks.  And this is not my war; it is ours," Kandomere sighed, washing the stitches with a splash of alcohol.

Ward flinched, automatically clapping his hand toward the injury so Kandomere had to swat it back.  Their fingers brushed in a magic-induced charge, and energy ignited between them.  Kandomere grit his teeth against the wash of it, stepping away.

"You really must learn to control that," he said, shaking his hand free of the residual power.  Magic always left fragments behind, and it never failed to be uncomfortable and inconvenient.

"What the fuck is up with that, anyway?" Ward asked, clutching defiantly at his arm as if to spite all reason and common sense.  Kandomere turned away before he could become annoyed.  The Human had a talent for frustration and could likely tempt Nature itself into anger.

"As I told you before; your magic is now awake and it will not rest easily.  If you do not expend it in some form it will gather beneath your skin over time until it finds a conductive surface to make a connection with.  You must learn to balance and contain it."

"And how the fuck am I supposed to do that?  I need a trained Bright to teach me, but good fucking luck finding one not imprisoned, dead, or vanished into some government program.  Grandma Elf made it pretty damn clear she was going to teach me magic over her dead body.  Tikka'd do it, but she's vanished into Narnia or some shit.  And you are literally the only person to give me an electric shock when you touch me.  You and that kid."

"Likely I am the only other person with an affinity for magic you've been in contact with," Kandomere said, stepping up to the sink to wash his hands free of blood and gore.  "As with static electricity, magic will ground itself in the path of least resistance.  Your magic reacts to me because mine reacts to you." 

Examining his wrists, he spotted a streak of red on the cuff of his dress shirt.  A shame; he'd acquired this one just last month and detested waste.

"Wait one fucking second," Ward said. "You can use magic?  How the fuck is this a conversation we've never had?  We've been doing this shit for months.  You couldn't have said something before now?"

Kandomere examined his sleeves, thinking.  If the last few months had proven anything it was that Ward was a Human prone to bizarre injury or circumstance, and the man had a belligerent mouth on top of that.  Kandomere had no doubt someone would try to kill him for his impudence alone one day, if they hadn't already.  Given that Ward couldn't attend hospital and was perhaps reasonably paranoid about attending clinics, Kandomere reasoned he should probably keep the shirt.  It seemed likely he would be stitching Ward up at other inconvenient times, maybe even in this safe house or one like it.

"I am not a Bright," Kandomere said, unbuttoning his cuffs and collar and untucking the shirt from his waist.  He absently smoothed a hand over the wool and cashmere blend of his pant leg, rubbing it curiously between two fingertips.  He'd had it tailored long ago, the best that could be bought of course, but it had been ages since he last luxuriated in the feel of the material itself.  Curious, that he should notice it now.  One thing he would certainly say for the modern age was its appreciation for fine clothing was at an unprecedented peak.  He would miss that when it went out of style in ten or twenty or fifty years, as all things did with the passage of time. 

"I have an affinity for magic," Kandomere continued.  "Meaning it is likely at some point in my family line there was an Elf close to the Dark Lord who he imbued with some sense of the magical currents in the world.  My affinity is stronger than most, but not enough to command a wand."

"So magic is genetic," Ward said.  "It shows up in families, like with that kid?  Brown hair, blue eyes, nuclear powered magical ability, all that?"

"Sometimes," Kandomere concurred, unclipping his gorget, removing his vest.  "In Elf families quite frequently.  In Human or Orc or Dwarf families, the talent will often skip several generations.  It's not an exact science."

"I didn't even know Orc Brights existed, I thought you said that was mostly a Human thing.  Did the Dark Lord infect all their family lines too; is that a thing?  And what the fuck are you doing?"

Kandomere paused, caught off guard.  He opened his mouth to state the obvious - he was disrobing, of course, was the Human blind or simply unobservant?  What could be so strange about - and stopped. 

What _was_ he doing?

This was not normal behavior, he realized belatedly; not normal for an Elf, certainly, not even for an Elf like Kandomere who had all but denounced his heritage.  This was a level of casual disregard for dignity that was quite unlike him.  It was not the way of Elves to invite casual scrutiny or to make themselves vulnerable before others.  Elves cloaked themselves in mystique, looked down from on high, wore their arrogance as a shield against the world.

Kandomere glanced at where his fingers were poised on the fifth button down his shirtfront, blinking.  He'd moved on instinct, with no real forethought.  Normally his instincts had more self-preservation than this, but the scent of pain and danger had heightened his senses and lowered his inhibitions. 

How remarkably strange.

"I can't say for certain," Kandomere mused at last.  "But I believe it may be the blood.  Blood is a very potent source of magic, and the charge in yours has saturated the room."  He wondered vaguely if it would be more prudent to continue or reverse what he'd begun.  He could feel Ward's eyes resting like heavy weights on his shoulders and the sensation induced a light prickle of awareness in his skin, a flush of color where a Human might experience fine hairs bristling.  It was not an unpleasant feeling.

Kandomere finally shrugged off his vest, then the shirt, keeping his back to Ward as he plucked another set from a storage cupboard.  After they'd first begun using his safe houses on a regular basis he'd put some effort into stocking them with the essentials.  It had seemed a vital detail and was serving them well today. 

"I am drawn to magic," Kandomere said.  "As most Elves are.  That is why you are not as safe as you believe yourself to be.  The only reason you've gone undetected until now is because you have little contact with those who would recognize your nature.  Right now you are weak, but every day your power grows.  Like calls to like and sooner than you imagine, you will have to fight for your place and your peace.  Or go into hiding."  He turned, sliding his arms through the sleeves.  "But of course, you will not do that."

Ward stared at him, a strange expression on his face.  Kandomere scented the air, but any emotion was washed away in the overpowering smell of blood and magic.  Ward had bled both tonight, and in great quantity; magic users often did when injured.  Kandomere tried not to feel too terribly off balance without being able to scent his frame of mind; in spite of a very short acquaintance, he'd gotten too used to knowing Ward.

Kandomere wondered with some fatalism how far he should allow this corruption to spread through him.  He had known when he first began searching for a strong and moral Human Bright that he himself would be required to make some sacrifices, to concede in ways he likely would not want to.  But he had not anticipated Ward, who was far from the gentle scholar or naive civilian Kandomere had thought he might one day encounter, when he'd allowed himself to consider the possibility at all.  Ward was a force of nature, barrelling into and past all obstacles in his way with barely any acknowledgement and certainly no apologies.

"All of that makes sense, I guess," Ward said.  "But none of it explains why the fuck you're stripping down over there."

"Perhaps as a prelude to seduction," Kandomere suggested, an unnatural humor sliding through him.  On an instinctual level, that was probably at least partly true; like did indeed call to like, and the magic in him drew to Ward like a beacon.  His body could not but follow the urging of his instincts.

"I think you and Nick went to the same school of how to make shootouts and emergency first aid awkward," Ward said. 

The whole thing would have been easier to ignore if Kandomere didn't enjoy the man; Ward was a surge of vibrant energy in what had been an otherwise dull and stagnant existence.  It was too easy to take pleasure in experiencing the world on this strangely visceral level.  To be fascinated by that which was good and refreshingly direct and _different_.

Kandomere allowed his lips to stretch in a smile and knew in that moment he would need to guard himself more closely, take care not to grow too attached.  Humans led short lives often fraught with violence, and Ward's would be more so than others.  Elves cleaved to purpose and cause, not to people.  He would have to remind himself of that.

"There was blood on the sleeve; I abhor dishevelment.  I will launder the shirt and leave it here for use seeing as this is unlikely to be the last time one of us will require field doctoring."

Brought back to their former line of argument, Ward looked away at last.  Kandomere hadn't realized the man had been staring until that moment.

"Sorry I didn't make it to Eighth in time," Ward said quietly, as Kandomere buttoned and resettled his clothing.  The Human set about doing the same, shucking what remained of his shirt, wiping down dark skin with a cloth until it ran clear, donning a new garment.  Kandomere kept his eyes politely and firmly averted.

"As you said, it could not be helped," he said, willing to let the argument lie.  Ward was a police officer; much as it grated, he had other duties to see to that fell out of the realm of Kandomere's scheming, and he would not give those duties up easily.  Kandomere admired him for it, truly; it was the harder path to walk, and one day not long from now it would likely grow too difficult even for this Human to keep to.  But Ward was stubborn and surprising; perhaps he might make it last longer than most.

"We're going to have to come up with a better system," Ward said.  "I can't be pulled while I'm on shift.  Nick really hates it when I leave him behind and that man can _whine_.  Probably thinks he's missing out on some stupid fucking magical calling or something.  Why couldn't _he_ have been the fucking Bright?"

"If he were, he'd have been caught and killed long ago," Kandomere said.  "He has even less self-control than you do."

Ward raised one hand with his middle finger extended upward and Kandomere regarded this with some puzzlement.  He recognized the gesture, having seen it exchanged on occasion between agents to general laughter, and he'd always assumed it was part of some eccentric comedic ritual amongst comrades.  He'd never had it aimed at him before and it seemed out of context in this instance; he wasn't sure whether this meant he was supposed to laugh, return the gesture, or ignore it. 

Ward sighed loudly, rolling his eyes to stare at the ceiling.  "Man, I really hate you sometimes.  Even Nick would have understood that one.  Look, can you arrange the operations when I'm off shift or what?"

They'd begun to officially call them operations since they both agreed that calling them missions made it sound too militaristic.  Or in Ward's case, "Too prophetic, this is not some fucking quest; I swear, if we start calling this a quest I'm _out_ ".

The operation on Eighth should have been without incident; Magic Task Force should have responded to a call out for possible magic use, corralled any potential danger as usual, and instigated a standard procedure grid search of the premises.  Kandomere should have been able to create an opening for his contact in this coven to escape; Ward should have been available to round up the contact for damage control and to lead them away if necessary.  But it hadn't happened that way and one agent was now in critical condition in hospital, and two others had needed significant medical attention.  As it turned out, Kandomere's information had been both right and wrong; the contact was willing to part with the Inferni but not for the altruistic reasons she'd professed.  He'd had no regrets when task force security took her down with deadly force while Ward slipped away unseen.  Kandomere would have to be more careful in future.  All death was to be avoided if possible, but if Ward had been caught and killed...

Kandomere had not searched so long and far for a Human accomplice only to lose him in less than a year working together.  The shame of that large a misstep would haunt him forever, and Nick Jakoby would never let him live it down.  The Orc would probably babble about it to him for months or years before Kandomere managed to make an escape; he might be forced to relocate to another country, if not another continent.

"And when will you manage to be reliably off shift?" Kandomere asked with irony, putting aside his other thoughts for later.  "Your hours change often and frequently, as any officer's might.  And what of your family?  Would you sacrifice your time with them to accomplish our shared goals?  No.  We will have to think of something else."

Ward paused in the act of tidying the medical supplies.  "Huh," he said.

"What?" Kandomere asked warily.  He did not trust the look on the Human's face.  It seemed uncommonly thoughtful.

"You sure you're okay, man?  I mean, not that I'm complaining, but when we first started this you didn't give two shits about my family.  We were all pieces on the board to you, move this way, move that way, three steps forward, two back, one sideways.  Now you're pretty much arranging my kid's play dates, and last month the Elf kid had you wrapped around his little finger and then some."

"Problem?" Kandomere asked, obscurely annoyed.

"Nah man, I got no complaints.  Just saying.  Congratulations coming over from the dark side or whatever."

Ward's words sealed it.  If even the Human had noticed his attitude was strange, something would have to be done.  There was a notable difference between learning the ways of Humans and embodying them.  Kandomere had grown complacent and comfortable and had allowed his fascination with an asset to expand beyond passing interest. 

"What change I've experienced is no thanks to you," Kandomere said to Ward darkly.  "You are certainly not any kind of role model for empathy or compassion."

"Too fucking right.  Nick can be everyone's conscience; Jiminy Cricket's got nothing on that Orc."

This was a reference Kandomere recognized.

"You make an unlikely Pinocchio," he said.  "You would cut any strings tied to you before becoming anyone's puppet."

"Thanks, man.  Nicest thing you've ever said to me," Ward grinned.

Kandomere was pleased to let the Human wave away the entire conversation as just more inappropriate humor, but he knew the truth.  Even now, the bare hint of fond exasperation tinting Ward's scent warmed Kandomere like the brush of sunlight on a cold day.  It was intense and new and entirely unhelpful.

Yes, it seemed some distance was most certainly called for.  Before things got even more wildly out of hand.


	5. Chapter 5

The days warmed as Kandomere immersed himself with single-minded intent back into Magic Task Force business.  The fallout from the missing wand was an ongoing affair and would likely remain so for years to come unless something more extraordinary happened.  There seemed to always be one raid or another requiring Kandomere's attention.  The resulting stacks of paperwork multiplied on his desk like a forest gone wild.

But while Kandomere was occupied, the world went rolling on.  Before another month had passed Ward and Jakoby helped a second family go into hiding.  This one secured Jakoby's undying loyalty forever; the man helped his fellow Orcs settle into their new life with the kind of awed care and reverence one usually reserved for holy experiences.  And afterwards he spent a distracting amount of time looking up at Ward worshipfully until the Human finally disabused him of that notion with judicious use of sarcasm, and they all returned to some semblance of normalcy. 

Kandomere made sure to absent himself during the relocation of the Orc family.  It was safer for everyone that way and he did, after all, have many other responsibilities to occupy his mind.  And if his sudden preoccupation and dedication to duty kept him away from Ward and Jakoby, well.  That was mere coincidence.   

Montehugh observed Kandomere's new fervor for their work with something approaching concern.

"Everything okay, boss?" his second asked one day.  They'd just finished a quarterly review with their five most senior division agents and Kandomere was busy shuffling paper and electronic notes back into some kind of order.

"Yes, of course," Kandomere said.  "Is there a reason it might not be?"

"Wouldn't think so from where I'm sitting.  But you've had a fire under your ass ever since that wand went missing.  Director coming down hard?"

"Nothing unexpected," Kandomere said truthfully.  Thankfully he had enough political backing that the official reprimand was simply a blight on his record; an embarrassment, not a mortal wound his career couldn't recover from.

"Not like we could have anticipated this," Montehugh said.

"Apparently our superiors think otherwise." 

"Well, if they think they can do better we could always use some more hands around here."

"Yes, I'm sure the Director would make an exemplary senior agent in this division," Kandomere said.

"Don't even joke," Montehugh said.  "I'd have to quit."

"Not if I beat you to it," Kandomere muttered, burying his appalling impulse to smile.  He really must find a way to rid himself of this awful sense of humor.

"We'll find her, you know, that Elf," Montehugh continued, with the air of a man aiming for reassuring and landing mostly on doubtful.  "One day."

"Perhaps," Kandomere said, but he rather doubted it.  If anything, Tikka would probably find them.

"We saw the kind of power that wand has.  She won't be able to hide it forever."

"Leilah did," Kandomere said.  "For twenty years."

"Yeah, and then she went and got herself killed.  See?  Everyone gets found eventually."

"Through fortunate coincidence and no effort of ours.  And she took a number of good people with her," Kandomere said.

Montehugh paused and then reversed course suddenly.

"Performance reviews coming up," he said nonchalantly.

"Yes?" Kandomere asked, wary of the sudden about-face.

"And the company dinner after.  I mean, speaking of good people, you've skipped out four years in a row and the troops are getting restless -"

"You may go in my stead," Kandomere interrupted.  "As always."

"No, see boss," Montehugh said.  "I'd go _anyways_.  I'm employed here too.  But for the sake of morale -"

"I have little enough to contribute to morale," Kandomere muttered.

"I'm just saying.  With all the changes recently, confidence is shaken.  Might do everyone good to see you there, manning the ship.  Right?"

"You only want to avoid giving the motivational toast."

"Well," Montehugh said with guileless optimism. "Not only."

"I'm glad," Kandomere said.  "Since I concede the division might benefit from my being there this year and will make the time.  But you will still be doing the toast."

"Damn," Montehugh said.

The dinner was both better and worse than Kandomere remembered from previous years.  Better because Kandomere's growing repertoire of Human idioms allowed him to recognize some of the comical and frankly strange things some of the his agents did and said to one another.  Worse because in the end the only thing this did was recall to mind the intense personal interactions he'd been doing his best to avoid in cutting himself down to bare minimum communication with Ward and Jakoby.

But either way, he had little enough time to be irritated about this, because Ward was not a Human easily put off, and it wasn't long before he came carelessly barging back into Kandomere's life.  Literally, as the Elf should have known he would.

"Okay," Ward said as marched into Kandomere's office without knocking on one cloudy morning.  His face was grim and set and he was dressed in his officer's uniform even though the city was just barely beginning to wake, and Kandomere knew for a fact the Human wasn't due to start his shift until the late afternoon.  He leaned back in his chair to regard Ward blankly.

"We need to talk," the Human announced bizarrely.

Kandomere glanced at his personal assistant, a formidable woman whose stern countenance was usually enough to turn even the most persistent of agents away.  She was currently occupied trying futilely to pull the Human back, muttering frantic apologies in Kandomere's direction when the man refused to budge.

"Do not concern yourself," he told the woman.  "I'm familiar with Office Ward's disregard for authority.  There's no cause for alarm.  You can return to your desk."

"Oh, but sir - "

"Please return to your desk," he repeated calmly, and she dropped her eyes and backed out and went.

"Thanks," Ward said.  "Sir."

Kandomere blinked at him slowly, wondering if the Human realized the precarious position he'd placed them both in, the danger of his unexpected appearance here.  This office was not a secure area from which to talk, and moreover any unexplained connection between them was asking for someone of higher authority to take notice and wonder.  They had both been part of the investigation about Leilah and the wand.  They could not afford to be seen together in any way not explained by some other cause.

"So, look," Ward said, and Kandomere thought rapidly about how best to shut him up.  Perhaps he could smother him - drug him - throw the paperweight on his desk at him - but the Human barrelled on a moment later.

"Word on the street is there's been a magic-user spotted in, uh, Mid-City.  Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

Kandomere left his hands lace on the desk for a moment, let the question have its time, waited for the Human to fidget in the way Humans did when they were uncomfortable supplicants asking for a favor.  He hadn't expected the tactic to work but Ward surprised him by obliging, eyes darting everywhere with frantic energy.  He scented strongly of fear, and Kandomere's alarm spiked.

"This is not an ideal setting for such a discussion," Kandomere said.  "One of the interview rooms may suffice.  Come."

He gestured Ward out, stepping ahead to lead the way.  He waved away the concern of his assistant as she started to rise again.

"No need," he said.  "Officer Ward has a report for me.  I will show him out after."

"Oh," she said, looking relieved.  He could hardly blame her.  Ward was a whirlwind, ruinous and utterly without remorse, and no one person standing in his way would have deterred him.  The last four that'd tried had been shot dead for their efforts.  "Of course, sir."

He took Ward down into the bowels of the building, past familiar passages and into the interview hallways, abandoned as usual.  They met with a few people on the way; mostly mid-level personnel, one junior field agent up for promotion, one attaché to a politician who was particularly noisome.  Kandomere made sure to telegraph where they were going.  Let the building think Ward had legitimate cause to be here when the reality was clearly quite the opposite. 

Eventually, once they'd finished putting on a quiet show for any nosy agents loitering - there were always some; it was a government building, after all - they made their way down to the hidden corner with the safe room.  It was perhaps the most suspicious part of their fiction, using the room, but there was little choice.  There was nowhere else safe they could speak and it would certainly look more suspicious if they left the building altogether, and be less secure from eavesdropping anyway. 

But it was not uncommon for an Elf in a magic seeking division to leave discussions out of the public eye.  If they were fortunate, anyone curious would simply consider Ward's newest visit to the division an extension of past investigations, or prelude to new ones.

"Your coming here was extremely foolish," Kandomere said as he locked the door behind them.  "You should have called me instead.  You are either incredibly arrogant, incredibly stupid, or in desperate need.  For your sake, I hope it's the latter."

"It's all three," Ward said, sitting abruptly on the table behind him.  "I don't know what to do."

The sour scent of fear was stronger here, now that they were away from prying eyes, and it abruptly flooded the space between them.  Kandomere had to take a moment to blink away a kaleidoscope of color.  He scented further, tasting the sickness of grief, swelling pain and loss.  No blood; this injury was emotional or psychological, not physical.  He resisted the urge to lean in close, offer a comfort that was not his.  It was not the Elf way to offer comfort in times of need.  Elves chose to act; they did not linger in feeling.

"What is it?" he asked.  "What's happened?"

"My wife.  She knows."

Kandomere felt a chill, a sudden shock of adrenaline, and red clouded his sight.  His most immediate thought was a threat assessment, and before he'd quite finished processing Ward's words he'd already started calculating the various merits of discrediting the woman if the situation were volatile, moving her if not.  He didn't bother imagining how he might dispose of her altogether.  While it might be the most sensible solution, Ward would never allow such a thing.

"Be specific," Kandomere said.  "What does she know?"

"The magic," Ward said.  "She knows about my magic."

Kandomere thought back to what he knew about Ward's wife; the woman worked in a hospital setting, perhaps a nurse?  Kandomere had limited influence in health care systems, but one of his political backers had a number of very public charitable organizations attached.  Perhaps they might be of some benefit.

"How did she find out?"

Ward dropped his face into his hands, struggling, and Kandomere let him think, his own mind busy running through scenarios.  If the woman were reasonable, perhaps she might be bought; bribery and intimidation were easy enough, but he strongly doubted Ward would support such an action.  No, this would require some subtlety. 

"I got off patrol around one this morning.  We had two domestic calls and a home invasion.  I was totally wiped." Ward said eventually, scrubbing roughly at his face. 

Kandomere nodded, considering.  If the woman went to any person in a position of some authority the case would eventually come to his desk and he could manage it in due course.  But if she took her knowledge to some form of media, or even if she didn't, spreading the word instead to friends or colleagues, the damage might escalate exponentially and quickly. 

"So I come home looking for the nearest flat surface, and Bree comes in looking for a fight.  I think.  Shit, I don't even know anymore, but eventually we end up talking really low and angry because fuck knows if we ended up shouting that'd be a damn shame."

Kandomere had contacts at most of the major news organizations.  Simple enough to create some minor controversy, perhaps requiring an internal audit or investigation of the hospital the woman worked at. 

"I can't even remember what started it.  Something about Nick, Sophia, I think - are you even fucking listening?"

Black market distribution of drugs could in many cases be traced back to medical professionals.  Perhaps he ought to start there...

"You could at least pretend to give a shit instead of being a fucking asshole," Ward said, and Kandomere nodded and then blinked back into the moment.

"You came to me," Kandomere reminded him.

"Yeah, and it'd be really fucking nice if you could focus for five seconds, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Has she threatened you?" Kandomere asked.  "Or taken any drastic action?  Has she told anyone, or do you suspect she will?"

"What?  No!  I - shit no, you are not standing there scheming about - what the fuck are you even scheming about?  Of course she's not going to tell anyone!  She'd ruin our whole life.  Fuck."

Kandomere frowned.  "You can't be certain of her silence."

"I'm more sure about her silence than I am about yours, so cut that shit right out," Ward said.

"If that's true," Kandomere said, "then what has she done to frighten you?"

"I'm not afraid, you freaky piece of - what are you even - she _knows_ , alright?  What the fuck am I supposed to do with that?"

"What do you _need_ to do?  If you believe you've secured her silence then why are you concerned?" Kandomere highly doubted Ward had done any such thing and silently resolved to make the appropriate inquiries as soon as possible.

"What _need_ \- are you fucking for real?  She's my _wife_ , man.  You know, sometimes I forget you're not actually Human, and then you do some shit like this and I remember."

"If you mean to offend me you won't succeed in this manner.  It's obvious to all that I am not Human, and have no wish to be.  Certainly if this conversation is any example, Humanity leaves much to be desired.  I did warn you this would happen," Kandomere said.

"Fuck off," Ward snarled, and for a moment Kandomere thought the Human might try to hit him.  He wouldn't allow it, of course; he might be odd in the way of Elves, not the norm, not the average, but his strength and reflexes were well in order.  No Human would land a strike on him unless he chose to permit it.

But Ward did not lash out, instead slumping back against the table.

"I blew out all the lights," Ward said.

"What?"

"I blew up the lights!  We were arguing - talking - I was pissed off and I don't even know what I said, but next thing I know there's this loud pop - and for a second I almost thought someone was shooting at us, you know?  So I drop to the ground and I've got Bree down there with me and she's shouting and it was like everything was going in slow motion.  And then Sophia runs in screaming that her nightlight exploded, and then I realized it was just the lights.  All of them."  Ward sighed, one corner of his mouth twisting up bitterly.  "Sophia cut up her feet pretty bad; there was glass everywhere.  Wouldn't stop crying for half an hour."

"Sophia?" Kandomere asked, mind spinning away with more contingency plans.  A second witness could turn a terrible situation into a crisis; this did not bode well.

"My daughter.  She's nine."

"Ah," he said.  He silently rolled the crisis back down into just a terrible situation.

"Got her bandaged up eventually, and Bree, I mean, she was awesome.  Knew exactly what to do, jumped right into it, got Sophia settled, starting sweeping up the glass.  Me, I stood there like some dumb gawker, man.  If someone _had_ started shooting they'd've had me dead to rights."

"If your wife was as calm as you say she was, perhaps the situation might be salvaged -"

"Bree took Sophia to stay with her mother for the weekend," Ward said.  "Bree's mother, I mean.  For a few days.  Just.  Yeah."

"Oh," Kandomere said, unfortunately rather awkwardly.  Some part of him vaguely regretted the woman had apparently been so even-tempered.  This would be much easier if she'd threatened to go to the papers.  Threats Kandomere could deal with; grief and marital conflict he could not.

"Yeah," Ward repeated, dull and completely lifeless for the first time in their short acquaintance.  This was a man whose passion burned hot and brightly; it was strange to see him so diminished.  Kandomere opened his mouth to offer some comfort and hesitated when he considered how very bad at it he was likely to be.

"It sounds as though she will return by Monday," he noted, thinking this at least must be a safe thing to say.

"Uh, no.  That is not at all what it sounds like.  You need to brush up on your Human-to-Elf translation, man."

"Oh," Kandomere said again.  Apparently he should have listened to his instincts and kept his thoughts to himself.  They stood in stilted silence for a moment, until Ward rolled his eyes expansively.

"Yeah, thanks for that little pep talk.  You should've been a motivational speaker," Ward muttered, and Kandomere shrugged before he could quite stop himself.  Weeks he'd spent trying to shed the abnormal Human affectations he'd acquired as the connection between he and Ward grew.  They hadn't even been in the room together twenty minutes and already some were creeping back.  It was extremely frustrating.

"Most would say inspiring compassion in an Elf is quite impossible.  We have little enough sympathy for our own kind and none at all for the other races."

"Yeah, remind me why we started this crusade again?  Something about mass Human executions or something.  I can't quite remember," Ward said.

"Hardly a crusade," Kandomere said.  "I believe we'd need more people for that."

"I fucking hate your sense of humor."

"Be grateful I have one," Kandomere said.  The influence of Humans.  So insidious. 

"Have you had any other magical outbursts?" Kandomere asked, before the conversation could devolve.  "If so, how long between episodes?"

In answer, Ward held out his hand, the starburst of the scar standing in stark relief against the dark of his skin.  Kandomere looked at it, wondering, then back at Ward's set, stubborn face.

"Touch it," Ward said, and Kandomere took an involuntary half-step backward.

"That seems unnecessary," he said.

"Fuck's sake, don't make this any weirder than it has to be," Ward said, wiggling his fingers impatiently.  "Just fucking take my hand, man."

Kandomere sighed, extending his right hand only to have Ward seize it.  He'd been prepared for the transfer of energy between them.  He'd even averted his gaze in preparation.  Now he looked down in some wonder at where magic no longer sizzled out of Ward's skin.  Instead the hum of it lay peaceful in his palm, quiescent.  If Kandomere listened closely he could hear it purring between them, and though it was quieter than usual, it was still there.  It was simply - tame.  Ward released him a moment later.

"You have learned to balance it," Kandomere said, with real surprise.   "Congratulations."

"Kind of," Ward said.  "I think, yesterday, when I did the lights - I can't describe it.  But afterward, after Bree and I talked, I couldn't sleep for shit, but I could feel it somewhere in the back of my mind, like a song that'd been driving me crazy for months I suddenly knew the words to.  I think it'll stay like this a little while, maybe a couple days - after that, I don't know."

"If you mean to keep controlling it you must remain calm," Kandomere told him, continuing as Ward glared at him. "I don't say this lightly.  Magic responds to your emotions, and it is a need requiring maintenance in the same way any need does.  In the same way hunger must be sated."

"Whatever the fuck I have to do, just tell me."

Kandomere hesitated, considering the likelihood he was about to be hit after all.

"When do you think your wife might return?"

"Once she calms down."

"And when she returns, assuming things revert to normal, how frequently do you and she achieve sexual release?"

"What the _fuck_ ," Ward said.  "Dude."

"Forgive my bluntness, but there is legitimate cause to ask," Kandomere said.

"Just because you're a fucking freak - is this an Elf thing?  It's sure as shit an Orc thing.  And it ain't either of your fucking business!"

Kandomere raised his eyebrows, unsure if he should be concerned about being compared to an Orc, Jakoby's respectability notwithstanding.

"Clearly a topic of some interest," he said wryly, and blinked when Ward punched out a laugh like it hurt.

"Nick gets on me about this every fucking week.  Look, what I do with my wife, and how, and when, is my fucking business.  And what the fuck is with the rest of the world thinking they have some kind of say?  Are all Elves and Orcs taught how to be inappropriate fucking busybodies or something?  Shit."

"Perhaps the Orc has your best interests at heart," Kandomere said, completely without irony.  That was a sentence he'd never thought to speak in earnest.  "In Orc culture this would be a perfectly acceptable question to ask.  Sometimes even in Human culture.  Never in Elf culture."

"But you asked," Ward said, dryly.

"I did.  There is a commonality among Brights that you lack uniquely.  Once they're awake, one of three things occurs.  They are either employed in the highest levels of society, so high they escape the rigors of law which makes their actions illegal.  Or they operate beneath the law altogether, off the grid.  Or they die.  I have never heard of a case of an active Bright living quietly in any city or suburbia, not for anything more than a scant few months.  No one has ever heard of such a case.  Can you guess why?"

"They don't exist," Ward said.  "The people like me who'd grow up into that are killed off as kids, or never encounter a magic wand anyway and don't - wake up, or whatever.  And if they do -"

"Yes.  And those that have woken must learn to use their power, often and well, or the power will use them.  We saw this even with Koltya, and his gifts were much less than yours.  Magic is not an easy thing to have, and it demands a price for the having."

"Then what the fuck do I have to do, man?  What happens in a few days or next week or next month when this shit builds up again?"

Kandomere reached for his hand again, hesitating before contact.

"May I?" he asked.

"You may," Ward said mockingly and gave him his hand, palm up. 

"You said you now sense the magic within you like a song.  Can you feel the hum of it beneath your skin?" Kandomere asked, framing the scar with both thumbs, hesitating a moment before he cautiously bent near to scent above it, prepared to withdraw if Ward reacted poorly.

"How the fuck did you manage to make this even more gay," Ward said.

"Elves rely heavily on scent," Kandomere ignored him, thinking resignedly that he'd already broken so many taboo's telling Ward of the world's false history, it seemed a small thing to share this as well.  "In this, we are like the Orcs.  I can scent the history of a person by being near them.  My gift is not the strongest or the weakest of my kin, but given familiarly I can read a person's intentions on the air.  Nick Jakoby, riding each day with you in a car, can probably scent what you had for dinner the night before, where you ate it, who with, whether this person was friend or foe, and whether you had contact with them in any way."

"He better not've been smelling all that," Ward said.  "I'll kill him."

"If he's been asking about your relationship with your wife, he does so with good cause.  To Orcs, family is all.  Jakoby was blooded while you stood with him, so to him you are as family now."  Kandomere hesitated, but there was really no easy way to say this.  "For an Elf who had no wish to use magic, they would bleed the excess of their power into Nature, feed it to the air or the ground or the trees.  You have no affinity to Nature so your way must be different.  Sex is the simplest method for Humans.  Dwarves have affinity with stone elements, so for them it's with masonry and creation.  For Orcs, it is with battle; one brawl to them is much like the next.  You might try that, but magic expended in combat is violent and unpredictable and certainly not subtle.  And if you have no access to these things, you must find another way."

He paused to allow Ward to express his loud indignation again but the Human was silent.  In the moments between breath, it suddenly seemed an unbearable intimacy for their hands to be joined during this discussion.  Kandomere shook off the urge to retreat. 

"If not sex, manual stimulation might -"

"Oh my God, stop fucking talking," Ward said.  "Seriously.  We are not talking about this.  If I wanted to talk about this I'd have gone to Nick, for fuck's sake.  Can we just - can't you just teach me to - I don't know, meditate or some shit, isn't that what people are supposed to do when they use magic?  Or just let me use the fucking wand, man, that'd do it.  I know you have it; even the PD's heard the rumor one went missing.  From this task force division, even.  Imagine that."

"Imagine that," Kandomere said dryly.  "And imagine the peril of what it could have told others if it'd stayed.  The colors continue to alternate because the wand has no current master and it had contact with both an Elf and a Human before it was placed in stasis.  It will not settle until someone claims it, and you aren't ready.  And in any case I can't teach you to use your magic, since that's not a gift I have.  For that we will need to find Tikka.  Have you heard from her?"

Ward hesitated, and Kandomere blinked at him.  "All this, and you still don't trust me?" he asked, and was surprised to find himself stung by it.  He had rather thought he'd closed himself off to feeling stung by anyone.  He released Ward's hand stiffly.  "When?"

"I haven't," Ward said, then "I haven't!" when Kandomere simply eyed him distrustfully.  "She left me a note, I think, on like, an Elf-type thing?  On the back porch last week.  Here, I brought it with me."  He reached into his back pocket, then the front, frowning and finally searching through his jacket.

"Why didn't you mention this sooner?" Kandomere asked, standing.

"And when the fuck would I have done that?  You've been stonewalling us for like a month, you asshole.  And I was saving the dramatic entrance for when I - I don't know - went unexpectedly nuclear and almost blew up my house.  Here."

Kandomere took the object handed to him, recognizing it immediately.  A silver gorget, meant to be worn on the chest, centered beneath the neck.  He examined it closely, scenting along its surface, noting the texture of Tikka's magic weaving through the metal.  It was a highly inappropriate gift, not that the former Inferni Elf would care about that.  A Human couldn't wear such a thing without drawing painfully acute attention to him or herself.  This was an Elf affectation, carried out through the ages; they all wore it in formal dress, and most even in the informal.  But not Humans, nor Orcs, nor any other race. 

He traced the inscription on the gorget slowly, thoughtfully.  The Human might recognize the unique nature of the item, might observe that only Elves wore them, but he could not read the inscription without outside assistance.  The woman must be aware Ward had discreet access to another Elf.  Kandomere considered the disturbing possibility that Tikka may be watching more than just Ward.

"Well?"

Kandomere looked up, caught in a moment of far off introspection.  Embarrassing.

"It's an article meant to be worn above clothing," he said.  He gestured at his own, stationary below his chin.  "As I wear mine.  _You_ can't wear it, of course; the item is distinctly Elf in nature and would raise suspicion.  But Tikka's charmed the metal for protection in some way.  From the feel of it I think it's been designed to blunt or deflect magic, but we can't know for certain without asking her.  I'm curious where she learned how to do it.  As far as I know, no texts remain on the art of imbuing objects with power."

"What's with the script?  Is it Elvish?  It looks Elvish."

Kandomere nodded, handing the gorget back to him with some reluctance.

"Most are imprinted with words of some kind.  My own says: 'Elves above all.  Above all, Elves.'"

"Nice.  That's not pretentious at all.  And I don't think you're living up to that one anyway, man," Ward said, and Kandomere nodded agreement.

"It is an old Elf proverb, chosen long before my birth.  I wear it now simply to carry on the tradition.  Your script is somewhat different.  It says: 'All paths are connected, as the roots of a holy tree'.  I don't know the origin of it.  It's not a proverb that I recall."

"Inside joke," Ward said.

"I shall take your word for it," Kandomere said.  "Just as I'm taking your word that your wife will hold her peace.  I hope you realize that if she doesn't the trouble she could create would be catastrophic and deadly.  To both of us."

"Hell, man, if it were just you and me I don't know what she'd do.  But she'd never risk Sophia by talking.  Magic brings out the crazy in people and it's bad enough being the family of a police officer.  The family of a magical police officer?  Can't happen.  I know it and she knows it.  She won't talk."

"I hope you're right," Kandomere said.

"So if you won't give me the wand where does that leave me?  Stone and Nature are out, and I ain't fighting Nick to let off some steam, so what else is there?  Do I got to take up martial arts or Pilates or something?  Tai chi?"  Beneath his breath Kandomere heard Ward mutter "tantric yoga?" but did both of them the favor of pretending he hadn't heard.

"Or something," Kandomere agreed.  "What was it you said - meditation?  That seems a reasonable place to start."

"Shit.  You're serious."

"I am.  I can't teach you magic, but I can teach you control.  The magic will respond to you on an instinctual level until you learn to hone this as you would any other talent.  It's as real and tangible a skill as when you first learned to control the stance and aim necessary for use of a firearm.  When Tikka finally deigns to show herself I'm certain she can teach you much of the old arts.  Magic need not be a force for destruction.  Once it was used in much simpler ways.  To build; to heal; to create."

"No use trying to sell it to me," Ward said.  "If I could tell you to keep it, I would.  I still don't want it.  I never did."

"I know," Kandomere said, simply.  "That is why I chose you."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for dubious consent/non-consensual thoughts in this chapter. No actions taken but if that's a trigger for anyone please keep this in mind.

If he'd been asked, Kandomere would have admitted he'd not considered Jakoby's initiation to their - crusade - particularly useful.  More an act of survival than strategy.  But he had cause to reassess this as the days moved along.  Jakoby was eager and prepared for this endeavor in a way Ward was not.  Of the three of them - Human, Elf, Orc - Jakoby knew best the oppression of others, the hunted secrecy, the injustice.  He lived it daily.  Where Ward was reluctant cooperation and furtive benevolence (and why Ward felt the need to hide this Kandomere could not understand; it must be a Human thing) Jakoby was in every way obliging and ready.

And while sometimes the Orc's eager naive solicitude managed to be disturbing and awkward -

"You are late," Kandomere said.  "I don't suggest these meeting times because I can easily afford to wait an hour for you two."

"Not my fault," Jakoby replied. "Ward and Breanna are still hashing it all out, heard them when I dropped by to pick him up.  See, look, Ward's still working on his conjugal love face, see how he wrinkles the bridge of his nose -"

"Shut up, Nick!" Ward shouted.

\- the Orc did manage to provide some surprisingly useful information at times.

"There's a faction of Orcs I could ask about," Jakoby said one day.  "They don't live in the cities.  They look up to Jirak as a farmer and think living off the land in his footsteps will pave the way for Orcs in the future.  They're supposed to revere magic but they say the Elves stole it for themselves and can't be trusted.  I don't know how they'd feel about a Human."

"A promising beginning," Kandomere said, with real surprise.  "Well thought.  Would you be able to make discreet enquiries?"

"Yeah, of course," Jakoby said.

"Uh huh.  Might as well take out a skywriting add," Ward said.

"I can be discreet!" Jakoby protested, and spent the next twenty minutes regaling them with deeply embarrassing stories which proved he had absolutely no idea what discreet meant.

"Perhaps you should go with him," Kandomere told Ward.

"Maybe _you_ should go with him," Ward replied.

In the end they left Jakoby to question his own kin without supervision, after instructing him sternly he was not to discuss Ward or Elves or magic in any capacity, and certainly not paired in the same sentence.  Kandomere felt the looming threat of discovery every time Jakoby opened his mouth but there was nothing to be done about it.  The Orc knew and could not be made to forget.  If they could not rely on his prudence they would simply have to trust in his hero worship.

"He does _not_ hero worship me," Ward said.

"Don't let it inflate your ego over much," Kandomere said.

"Well that'll never happen with _you_ around -"

For the most part the arrangement worked surprisingly well.  Kandomere stepped back into the dynamic as though he'd never been distant, resigned to the slow, inevitable corruption of his Elf traditions sure to follow.  He was wise enough to admit to himself he'd begun to anticipate the process with equal parts dread and exquisite longing. 

Kandomere had asked Ward to help him change things; it seemed only justice that Ward would require Kandomere to change in turn. 

Their network continued to expand.  They spent three weeks extracting an Elf from an Inferni coven and then another two relocating her.  Ward went an entire month without sustaining an injury.  Jakoby continued to prove his worth by providing a solid alibi and eliminating the need for subterfuge. 

Kandomere had not realized quite how well it seemed to be working until it became clear that in one very critical way, for Ward, it hadn't been working at all.

"You are distracted," Kandomere said, as patiently as he could after an hour trying to redirect Ward's attention into shared meditation.  "Perhaps we should do this another time."

"No," Ward said.  "I mean, yeah, sorry, I can't concentrate for shit.  But keep going.  I think I almost have this.  Something about the sunlight on my face and the wind beneath my wings and seeing the color blue from the inside - hey, who the fuck came up with this shit anyway?"

"Yes, I can see how close you are to mastering it," Kandomere said, and got to his feet.

"No!  Shit.  Sorry, okay?  Let's just try again."

"Meditation on this level won't be effective while you're like this.  Come."  He moved to one of the cupboards, pulling down a bottle of clear liquid.  He tipped it in Ward's direction in enquiry.

"What is it?" Ward asked, stumbling to his feet with a wince, stretching him back and shaking out his limbs as blood began to recirculate.  Kandomere could scent his discomfort, the low grade irritation buzzing through him. 

" _O_ _rüliao._ It is an Elf beverage.  Equivalent to your wine, though the alcohol content is significantly higher.  I've never seen it served to a Human so I can't say what it will taste like to you."

"Hit me," Ward said, and they each took a glass.  Ward settled into a chair and Kandomere learned cross-legged against the table.

Ward coughed on the first taste, wheezing hoarsely, "I thought you said this was wine.  That ain't wine.  It's moonshine."

"I said it was the equivalent of wine to an Elf.  I would not give you one of our stronger drinks; your blood alcohol level would peak quite dangerously."

"Yeah, thanks for the warning you fucker, don't think I don't see you smirking over there," Ward muttered, but he took another more cautious sip, humming curiously.

"Well?" Kandomere asked.

"Not bad.  Bit syrupy for my taste.  Got any beer?"

"No.  I'll be sure to stock some next time."

Ward shrugged philosophically and Kandomere let the silence settle between them.  In the beginning Ward had often tried to fill the quiet with extraneous words, with 'small talk', but he'd learned quickly that Kandomere had no use for meaningless drivel.  If Jakoby were here the Orc would have filled the entire room with his rambles, but when it was simply the two of them there was no need for such nonsense.  Kandomere scented the air, sifting through Ward's most immediate feeling of calm to the core of worry and sorrow beneath, and the exhaustion underpinning even that.

"Stop that," Ward said.  "You're not a dog and I'm not a pepperoni stick.  If you want to know what I'm thinking just ask me, none of that Elf voodoo shit."

"What are you thinking?"

"That I wish you'd had beer," Ward said, and poured himself another glass.

"You may want to drink that more slowly," Kandomere said but Ward ignored him, taking a large, smooth swallow.

"Tastes better the more I have.  Is it meant to do that?"

"Perhaps that's how the Human body interprets it," Kandomere said, moving the bottle to his other side where it would be inaccessible to Ward.  "If I may, I would like to be candid."

"Not like you've ever let me stop you before."

"This is not the first time you've been distracted in recent weeks.  Something troubles you."

"Yeah," Ward said.  He cradled his glass in one hand, swirling the clear liquid in a clockwise motion.  Kandomere let him think, sipping at his own drink, and the minutes trickled quietly away.

 "You ever wish you could go back and make different choices?" Ward asked at last.  "Like if you could change just one thing in your life, it might all be different?"

"Every day," Kandomere said.

"Seriously?"

"Regret is inevitable in any life, but Elf lives are longer than most.  There are many things I would change had I the opportunity and choice, but I don't, and neither do you.  We can only live for the present and look to the future."

"That's great advice, man, but when the present sucks, not all that helpful.  Every morning I wake up and the first thing I wish is that I'd never touched that fucking wand.  If I hadn't tried to be a hero none of this would've happened.  I mean, I'd probably be dead, because that bitch would've fried me if Nick hadn't blown her hand off first, but still."

"Imagine if you _hadn't_ touched the wand," Kandomere said.  "What would change?  Where would you be today?"

"If I wasn't dead, you mean?  Well, I'd never have stopped Leilah, so maybe she'd be one step closer to bringing back his highness the Dark Asshole, and Nick'd probably be dead, and Tikka.  But I'd never have to try and imagine myself as the inside of a water drop, or like a leaf on a pond or some shit.  Or worry you're going to smell me in a really embarrassing moment.  Or spend every car ride to work wondering if this is the day I lose it and someone gets hurt."

"You would do better to imagine yourself as the inside of a large pool of water, not a water drop," Kandomere said.

"I'd still be married," Ward continued.  "And be looking at more than weekend custody of my kid."

"Ah," Kandomere said.  There; that was the heart of it.  That was the flavor of bitterness that had haunted Ward's every step for the last month.  At one time Kandomere would have thought the Human might turn to anger instead of sorrow, but Ward seemed too tired to be angry.  His fierce defiance and passion were still there but muted beneath layers of quiet despair.  Kandomere silently handed him back the bottle.  Ward took it with a rusty sort of laugh.

"You're so helpful, man, really."

"'In losing, gain; in gaining, lose'," Kandomere quoted softly.

"The fuck's that supposed to mean?"

"An old Elf proverb.  It implies that eventually loss might become reward, and one may find reward even in losing.  You opened yourself to magic when you touched the wand; you saved lives.  Working together we may yet save many more.  What you have lost, others might gain."

"B+ for effort," Ward said sarcastically.  "But it don't make me feel any better right now."

"Perhaps one day.  Perhaps tomorrow."

"Maybe," the man sighed.  "Bree and I - we haven't really decided yet, but she's scared, man.  I can see it every time we're together.  She's still at the house, she's still there, but she isn't really _there_ anymore, you know?  It's starting to affect Sophia, that kid has ears like you wouldn't believe.  Bree has a big mouth around her sometimes.  Not that I'm much better."

Kandomere wanted to ask him about how he would assure his wife's silence if she left, but that was the Elf way, always planning, concerned with the end game.  The Human way demanded compassion. 

"What will you do now?" he asked.

"I don't know, man.  We've been together ten years, off and on.  I love her.  But she's just not part of this - this life.  She's always hated being a cop's wife.  This is like one huge step beyond that.  We're up to our asses in bills with the house, barely getting by as it is.  She's already staying at her mom's place half the time, the other half - it's like sharing space with a stranger."

"Jakoby must be aware," Kandomere observed.

"Think he's been exercising his right to remain silent, because he ain't said a word to me yet."

"Impressive."

"Hmm."  Ward finished off his second glass, made motions to pour himself another one and thought better of  it.  "I just don't know, man."

"You needn't know yet," Kandomere said.  "I'm given to understand these decisions take time.  There is no reason to act in haste."

"Yeah," Ward said, but not in agreement.  Then: "You ever been married?"

"No," Kandomere said, finishing off his own glass.  "Elves rarely marry; there is a difficult artistry in choosing one person to pass the centuries with.  Those Elves that do marry usually do so to strengthen political or family alliances, or in rare cases at their own discretion in later life.  I would be considered by most a poor choice in any case.  I am independently wealthy, but that is true for most of my kind.  I work for a living and always have done, a true profession and not a fictitious one.  I have few interests, no obvious talents, and little enough physical appeal to recommend me.  I am no one's ideal candidate as a mate."

"Wow," Ward said, pushing the bottle toward him with blatantly false sympathy.  "And I thought I had it bad.  Here, you might need this."

"I believe we've both had enough," Kandomere said, and re-corked the bottle to tuck it away again in the cupboard.

"You ever wish you'd married?" Ward asked, apparently unwilling to let the subject go.

"Occasionally, as I'm sure all do.  But I have no regrets."

"Yeah, me neither.  I mean, that's the thing I keep coming back to.  I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is wish I'd never touched the wand.  But then the second thing I do is realize I don't regret doing it, because I saved Tikka, and Nick, and stopped Leilah, and for the first time in basically forever I felt like I was actually alive.  Like I'd spent years sleeping, just drifting by until that day.  And then you dragged my ass back to that stupid office of yours and I learned about this whole other world where entire families of Brights were being wiped out, and suddenly all those times I told myself I never wanted to be a hero it was like I was turning my back on those kids, you know?  And I couldn't do it anymore."

"If you don't regret that, then what?" Kandomere asked.

"That's the part that bites, man.  There ain't nothing.  I'm just sorry Bree can't be there with me."

"I will be with you.  So will Jakoby.  Tikka, eventually."

"Yeah," Ward said.  "That's great and all, I mean, no offense.  But it ain't the same, I'm just saying."  Ward might have gone on but had to muffle a yawn as it interrupted him.  He scrubbed both hands over his face afterward.  "Whoa.  What was in that stuff?  I can barely keep my eyes open."

"Alcohol," Kandomere said.

"Laugh it up, smart ass.  Guess I should get going."  He tried to stand and bobbed with uncertain balance.

"You can't drive impaired," Kandomere said.  "If you meant to leave quickly you shouldn't have had the second glass or even the first.  You're well over the limit.  You may rest here.  The apartment is secure; Jakoby can pick you up in the morning."

"Nah, man, that's suspicious as shit, me staying here.  Bad enough to come out for an hour or two every other day."

"No more suspicious than anything else we've done," Kandomere said, placing a hand on Ward's arm to guide him down the hall.  A shock of power slipped from Ward and Kandomere snatched his hand back, glaring. 

Ward shrugged sheepishly.  "Sorry."

Kandomere rubbed the tips of his fingers together.  That charge had been fairly strong; he glanced a question at the Human.

"Yeah, haven't had much chance to - anyway, it's been getting bad."

"Ah," Kandomere said and resigned himself to another secret spilling between them before the night was done.  "Come with me."

Ward followed him obediently down the hall and Kandomere was amused to see only Ward's stubbornness kept him walking in a relatively straight line.  The alcohol combined with the man's exhaustion was a potent mix.  Thankfully the bedroom wasn't far and moments later Kandomere gestured Ward into the sleeping alcove where a single bed and untouched sheets in neutral gray waited.

Ward wobbled downward to sit docile and bleary on the bed with his eyes fixed on an unseen point ahead and both hands pressed flat to the mattress on either side of him.  It was the closest the man had ever gotten to a meditative trance.  Or possibly he was falling asleep with his eyes open. 

After a moment Ward asked tiredly: "You planning to stand there all night?"

"I may be able to help you with the magic," Kandomere said. 

"No offense, man, but meditation hasn't been doing shit for me."

"Your temperament is ill suited to it," Kandomere agreed.  "But there might be another way.  I could try to draw the magic out of you temporarily."

"How?"

"The process is somewhat - intimate," Kandomere hedged.

"Why you always got to make it sound gay," Ward said.

"It's not uncommon for Elves to use this method during sex," Kandomere admitted.

"Okay, _no_ , man, what the fuck!"

"I'm not propositioning you," Kandomere said, silently laughing at him.  Perhaps also laughing at himself.  If Ward were at all interested, Kandomere would have offered to have the man in his bed months ago.  Ward wouldn't have been the first Human he'd ever had; just the most interesting. 

"The method is a simple one," Kandomere continued.  "I would need to touch you as you lay down to rest; your hand or your head, any extremity.  Magic has a current to it.  If I draw yours into me it would be like draining water from a well into a bucket.  Eventually the well will fill again, but not for some time.  And it will dissipate more quickly in me than it would in you, since my body doesn't naturally produce magic."

"Why didn't you ever mention this before?" Ward asked, his anger muzzy and blunted by alcohol.  "We've spent weeks at this meditation shit!"

"As I said, this is a rather intimate thing.  But it's dangerous for you to continue with that level of magical charge within you, and I do you a disservice letting it go on unchecked.  I'm surprised you haven't managed to blow up something else yet."

"Came close.  There was a thing at work."

"All the more reason.  But the choice is yours, of course," he said, and then impulsively added: "I offer you my aid in this time of need." 

The ritual words were reckless and lush on Kandomere's tongue, not as potent as they would have been had he said them in Övüsi.  But binding nonetheless.  And Ward -

"I have a 'choice', yeah, right," the man grumbled, having of course no idea of the correct formal response and so failing to provide it.  Kandomere felt the thread of the oath dissolve unspent between them and told himself he was not disappointed.

"There is always a choice," Kandomere said.  "The trick is in making the right ones."

"Yeah, thanks, man.  You should do Hallmark cards," Ward muttered, but Kandomere could scent the Human's grudging gratitude and curiosity, his wary acceptance.  "Okay, fine.  I'm willing to try anything once."

Ward stripped off his shirt and pants without embarrassment, slipping with a shiver under the unused bed linens in only his boxer shorts.  The room was cool, two degrees below Human norms as all Kandomere's safe houses were set to, but a prickle of heat still managed to slide into the Elf's belly at the sight of Ward's rich chocolate skin vanishing from sight.  Kandomere could feel the tips of his ears flush with color.

"A moment," he said, and retreated hastily to the kitchen to brace his hands against the counter and breathe deeply the scent of Elvish wine and distressed Human and his own folly.  He'd made this offer in good faith and he'd see it through, but it would not be easy.  Little about Ward was ever easy.

Kandomere retrieved a chair and returned to the bedroom to set it on the side nearest the window.  This safe house was another high rise overlooking Mid-City, and below them the city teemed with life, busy and bustling and alive.  In comparison, the apartment felt suddenly small and closed in, too steeped in stillness, almost oppressive.  Kandomere sat in the chair and didn't ask for permission as he took up Ward's hand at the palm and wrist.  Magic settled just beneath the surface of Ward's skin and Kandomere could feel the Human's tension as he fought to keep it in control.  That he hadn't let it slip at this physical contact spoke well of him; he was learning.  But:

"You will need to relax," Kandomere said.  "I would wait until you're sleeping, but I suspect you'd wake in the midst of it regardless."

"Why?"

"You will see," Kandomere told him.  He scented the air for some sign of Ward's frame of mind but the man had muted his emotions impressively and they were a pale imitation of their usual form, grey and still.

"Go on, then," Ward said, staring at the ceiling with studied indifference.  "I ain't getting any younger."

Kandomere allowed himself a brief moment of spiteful irritation - could the Human never simply be gracious, or even pretend at politeness?  He spun the first filament of magic out more sharply than he ought to have.  Ward took a startled breath and clenched his fingers where their hands were in contact.

"Relax," Kandomere repeated, and then spun out more.  This was an old technique; parents with a shadow of magic in them used it with young children to draw out minor ailments, fever, pain.  Elf covens used it to share and build the wave of magic between members for communal spells.  Pairs with a matching affinity had been known to allow the push and pull of magic to swing between them, one thrusting into the other as with the deep rolling movements of languid sex.  Kandomere had done it once or twice himself and it was an experience not quickly forgotten.  He tried not to consider that as he threaded more magic from Ward, wrapping it around and around his own core as one might spin loose yarn into a tightly condensed ball.

It was slow going; Kandomere had done this rarely, and never at all with a Bright.  The difference in strength was staggering.  He'd begun to feel uncomfortably over-full with energy before the flow of it finally began to wane.  He released a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, opening his eyes to see the world washed into a multi-hued rainbow, the shadows no match for an Elf's superior night vision.  It was shockingly beautiful; he'd never seen such richness of color in his life.  Was this what Humans saw every day?  He took a grateful breath and then blinked.  An unexpected flood of smoky arousal stained the air.  Part of it was his; the larger part, even.  But a healthy portion of it was Ward's.

Kandomere looked down.  Ward had his eyes closed and his face was turned away toward the wall.  His other hand was splayed over his chest, tense and unnaturally still, and the covers hid all else, but the rapid beat of his pulse was a sure sign, and his smell...

Kandomere scented again and the room was a kaleidoscope, full with a rich variety of feasts for his senses.  He leaned forward to say something - what, he wasn't sure - but:

"Don't," Ward said sharply, hoarse and rough and raw.

He meant it probably as a command, but it was too thin and reedy for that.  Kandomere wanted, he wanted dearly, and it was an ache to think of denying himself when the object of his desire lay so still and vulnerable before him, lay there wanting at least some part of Kandomere in turn. 

He could feel a fierce cruelty rise inside him, a possessiveness he hadn't known for ages.  Kandomere was stronger than the Human, faster; he had the advantage of position and vantage.  Of sobriety.  There were a hundred ways he could overcome Ward, each of them more forceful than the last, and the Human could not stop him.  Ward could barely walk.  He had no weapon, no defenses.  And Kandomere was generous, after all; he would be kind, he would be liberal in applying himself to make sure Ward enjoyed it.  Eventually pleasure would win out over resistance.  The Human could be his for the taking if Kandomere would but extend his hand.

Kandomere blinked slowly and carefully, red shivering across his sight like a blood haze.  His instincts were mindless beasts whispering savagery in his ears to a tune he recognized easily.  He had worked hard over the decades to be more than the sum of his Elvish nature, better than the blight of his heritage, greater than the shadow of his many mistakes.  But the construct of control was a fragile one.  He was reminded of this as he gently ushered those terrible thoughts back behind the lock and key he normally kept them under, back into the dark places all Elves had, as he buried them as far away as he possibly could.

When the wave of angry cruelty passed, Kandomere took two more slow, careful breaths of the air, allowing himself one last scent of Ward's exhaustion and embarrassment and reluctant excitement.  Then he settled Ward's hand on his knee, let the flow of energy between them become a trickle until it was a soothing respite from pain instead of the pitiless fire he'd stoked before.  Kandomere had allowed irritation to get the better of him and now they both suffered as a result.  He must do better than this in future.  He must _be_ better than this.

"Go to sleep, Ward," he said, and saw the Human's guilty relief as he did just that, tension unspooling from him in a sudden rush, muscles going lax and pliant as he dropped his guard and within minutes had fallen obediently into a deep and restful slumber.  Ward's trust was probably the greatest honour he could have paid Kandomere.  And more risky than he would ever know.

Kandomere guarded Ward's sleep for hours, watching as the city below them boiled over with life.  He imagined every awful impulse inside him as one of the many lights speeding down the road and away in the maze of streets, growing smaller and more fleeting with every passing second. 

Elves were savage in nature, and Kandomere had grown too secure in the thin facade of civility he wore.  Like so many others of his kind he'd fallen for the fiction of his own benevolence.  And he would have to take more care in future, before someone got hurt. 


	7. Chapter 7

In August, the sweltering heat of late summer rolled over the city like the tide of a great inferno.  With increased temperatures came less frequent task force raids as the Inferni scattered underground, disappearing into their hovels like animals in hibernation.  Kandomere was not surprised; Elves preferred cooler temperatures and had a tendency to be lethargic in the northern hemisphere until closer to the equinox.  Kandomere himself was no exception to that rule, except that he'd long ago mastered his body's demands and learned to forge on unhindered in most any climate.  He tried not to begrudge Jakoby, who thrived unapologetically in the sun as his Orc physiology adapted easily to the change in season.

Kandomere might have expected the blazing heat to act as fuel for Ward's unpredictable temper, but the Human turned out to be almost indifferent to it.  Instead, as his power ebbed to more reasonable levels, Ward seemed to discover in himself a new equilibrium.  After a few weeks of magical breathing room, the man even managed some proficiency with basic meditation.  He never learned to like it, but then, Kandomere had not expected him to.  Ward still refused to participate in guided imagery -

"If you tell me to picture myself as a wave on a fucking endless ocean _one more time_ ," Ward said.

"I suppose it _is_ summer," Kandomere conceded.  "Perhaps you'd prefer to be a grain of sand in a vast desert instead."

\- but every Tuesday the Human came to one of the safe houses where they spent an hour in practice, and afterwards Ward lay down to rest while Kandomere put a hand on his forehead or hand or arm, one time his ankle, and drew magic to the surface of his skin and spun it away.  Ward's trust may have been grudgingly offered, but once given, it proved unwavering; he was the sort of man who wouldn't withdraw it unless he had cause.  And he was also the sort of man who would kill Kandomere quickly if the Elf ever _did_ give him cause.

For Kandomere, the whole arrangement was a special sort of torture, a sinful secret pleasure that left unsatisfied desire pooling in him with every passing day.  They didn't speak of it, because Ward held stubbornly to a silence that Kandomere dare not break.  It was clear no one could rush Ward when he did not wished to be rushed, and to try was a perilous endeavor.  So instead they stayed in limbo, their connection intangible and growing, and Kandomere quickly found himself growing accustomed to Ward's influence, even coming to desire it.  Physical attraction was only the most obvious warning sign; a symptom of a more dangerous problem spreading.

The Orc sensed the change, of course - what he actually knew Kandomere had no idea.  But Jakoby cornered him one evening and rambled on in his usual way for ten endless minutes before Kandomere realized -

"Are you warning me not to interfere with Ward's - I don't know the Orc equivalent," Kandomere said.  "But you are trying to warn me against causing him harm, yes?"

"Well, yeah," Jakoby said.  "Kind of slow, aren't you? Humans get like that too, sometimes; distracted, you know, when they - "

"Yes, _thank you_ , Jakoby."

And after that galling encounter, Kandomere had rather considered his intentions accounted for, but he'd forgotten there was another collaborator in their campaign.  And Tikka was not half so easy to placate as the Orc.

Kandomere was driving, traveling into Elftown on one rare, free evening with an itch beneath his skin that needed tending.  Ward would not provide an answer to their mutual frustration, so there had to be other outlets.  He'd just turned into one of the more adventurous Elf districts with no particular destination in mind and come to an idling stop at a red light.  And that's when someone opened the passenger door of his vehicle and slipped into the seat beside him.

Instinct had him pointing a weapon at them before he even registered who it was.  It took a moment before the light of a passing car illuminated her face, the signature unkempt mess of her straw-colored hair, the clear focus of her eyes, her unconventional manner of dress.

"Tikka," he said as she calmly shut the door behind herself.

"Green light," Tikka said, and he put the gun down by his right thigh and pulled smoothly back into traffic.

" _Well met, brother_ ," she greeted in Övüsi, sinuous and smooth, and it shouldn't have been strange to hear his native tongue wrap around words, but it was.  Kandomere spent most of his time these days at work or in the presence of a Human and an Orc, planning treason.  Elvish had become a scarcity in his life.  Rare exceptions were nights like this, when he sought a relief he could not find otherwise.

"You shouldn't have come to me," Kandomere said.  "You are a wanted fugitive and I head the division meant to hunt you down.  This is very risky."

"Risky for me?" she asked.  "Or risky for you?"

"The two aren't mutually exclusive," he said, turning down one side road and then changing his mind, doubling back toward heavy traffic so he might begin making his way to the freeway.

"You take greater risks than I do," Tikka said.  "Every day and every week.  I've been watching."

"How?"

"Not with my eyes."

"Yes, that makes much more sense," Kandomere said dryly.

"You talk like him," she said, and he jerked to look at her, pressing down on a flare of annoyance until it heeled to his wish and went away.

"I speak in my own voice, and always have," he corrected.  "No other speaks through me."

"I meant no offense," Tikka said, lightly.  "It is not an offensive thing."

"That depends entirely on who you ask," he said in automatic jest, and was irritated to have immediately proven her correct by falling back on humor.  Humor could be used to redirect Ward, and even Jakoby, but for another Elf Kandomere should have deferred first to his position and authority; their kind recognized those most readily.  It was a novice mistake, and he could see in Tikka's eyes that she recognized it too.

"There are few I would ask," she said.  "Few I count among friends.  You've met most of them."

"How closely have you been watching?" Kandomere asked, and a new thread of discomfort tried to shadow his thoughts before he could push it away.  He slowed the vehicle to merge into the flow of traffic, and then accelerated.

"Not that closely," Tikka said, deliberately vague, and he felt her testing him with the weight of her scrutiny.  "But frequently.  Mostly Ward."

Given Ward's recent contact and activities, most of them involving Kandomere, that wasn't comforting.  Wary instinct tried to rise but he pushed it carefully down.

"You needn't fear that someone could replicate the method," she said, scenting his caution and misinterpreting the reason for it.  "He held me in a pool of light while I lay near death and faith bound us together.  Now our paths are connected."

Kandomere wasn't prepared for the jealousy that stole into him then, the wildly unexpected knife of it sliding beneath his skin.  Elves were territorial; they guarded their power and possessions closely, but he would never have suspected himself capable of it over a person.  People generally mattered so little to their kind, and yet, that Ward and Tikka had such an intimate connection while Kandomere himself was denied - it was a very bitter thing.

"Connected paths," he repeated, suppressing the instinct for violence until it subsided resentfully to make room for more practical thoughts.  "That is the second time I've heard of that phrase in relation to Ward."

"He showed it to you, then," Tikka said, mercifully ignoring the sudden rise of aggression.  She turned her eyes away in a false show of submission.  But her lack of deference gave her away; she respected him, perhaps, but she did not yield to him and the urge to intimidate her into obedience was strong.  And also completely useless; Ward would never let it stand.

"Yes," he said, fixing his eyes on the steady lights of traffic streaming around them.  "The gorget was well done, but I don't know it's full purpose."

"Neither does he," Tikka said.  "He will learn."

"Then I'm glad he'll have you to teach him," Kandomere said, not entirely truthfully.  "He will be glad to see you."

"I know.  That's why I've come; it was time."

"You should have come sooner."

"No.  You needed the time more than I did.  _Have you found your answers yet, brother_?" she asked.

"Don't call me that," he said, refusing to be drawn into Elvish.

"I have lost my sisters," Tikka said, and all falseness vanished from her posture until he could see her from the corner of his eye bowed beneath the weight of unspoken grief.  "They don't see me.  Won't you claim me?"

"No," he said, less kindly than he might have.  "You may convince Ward to try.  He is a Bright; it will be simple enough for him."

"His mind is closed.  He won't see the union of it."

"He will," Kandomere said.  "He does."

" _You have been busy, brother_ ," Tikka said, with unexpected merriment.  " _I sense the core of him in you.  Have you dreamed of him yet?_ "

"Don't," he said sharply.  He felt the pull of her intent, felt her scent the air and the tips of his ears flushed dully to think of what she would intuit from him.  Ward had come to him last night and Kandomere had spent hours on guard while the Human slept peacefully, allowing himself just the occasional caress of his thumb cradling the man's hand, reminding himself again and again why he could not do more.  The day had been long and frustrating after, and now apparently the night would be more so.  The scent of the Human would have been on his skin even if Tikka had not bled thoughts of him to the surface, but only she would recognize who it was that burned through Kandomere like fire.

"Do you have a favorite color?" Tikka asked suddenly, and his eyes caught involuntarily on the rainbow around him, the brilliant reds and blues and greens of the city which had never been so bright in all the many years of his life before.  "I do.  Orange.  When he picked up the wand, that was the first time I really knew what it looked like.  The whole world was light with it.  Have you ever seen anything like it?"

"No," he admitted.

"It's been gray again, since.  Broken.  Do you think we were meant to be this way?"

"I think it is a just punishment," he said as traffic began to thin and they took the last turn out of Elftown.  "The Dark Lord tried to take all color from the world, and now we see it only as he ever meant us to."

"Not just.  For justice, one must recognize and account for their mistakes.  But most of our kind don't know enough to understand their crime."

"We'll change that," Kandomere said.  He extracted his burner phone from a pocket and dialed Ward's number with one hand on the wheel.  "But Ward will need your help.  I've taught him some control, but not enough.  He'll need to learn the use of magic."

"He will need a wand," Tikka said.  "And a better teacher than I.  But I will begin it, as I was meant to."

Kandomere paused as the phone connection clicked open on the line.

"Are you alone?" he asked without preamble. 

"You got separation anxiety or something, man?  We just met yesterday," Ward said, pretending at irritation, but Kandomere could read his genuine concern even over the tinny cell phone receiver.

"I've had a visitor," Kandomere said.  He always tried his best to remain vague, even when using a secure line.  "She misses her sisters, but she's looking forward to seeing you."

"Where?  When?" Ward asked, with no effort to disguise his urgency.

"As soon as you can manage it.  The south side house.  Bring the Orc, or he'll be insufferable tomorrow."

"He'll be insufferable _now_ ," Ward muttered, and Kandomere hung up on him.

The reunion was everything Kandomere had suspected it might be; joy and painful babbling from Jakoby, a facade of jaded stoicism from Ward, a good dose of humiliation for Kandomere when Tikka immediately caught his scent sinking past the surface of Ward's skin and gave him a sly smile that was not at all subtle. 

"Tikka," Jakoby said, all eager delight.  "You're here!  You look good; you look great."  The Orc reached for her, pulled back, put his hands on his hips, and then reached out again, a living seesaw of overcome emotion.  Ward rolled his eyes where none but Kandomere could see, and they traded a look of commiseration behind the backs of the other two.

"I look myself," Tikka corrected, smiling, and tugged at her shabby clothing.

"And that's good," Jakoby insisted.  And likely it would have gone on that way indefinitely if Ward hadn't taken that moment to intervene.

"Hey, Elf girl," Ward said, pretending at nonchalance, but Kandomere could scent the gladness on him.  The Human extended a hand to her and she dropped her eyes down to stare at it fixedly.  "Welcome back."

Tikka took Ward's hand with the air of someone not quite sure what to do with it, and there was a faint flicker of energy between the two Brights as they came into contact.  It was very different from when Ward had met Koltya; Tikka was no coven leader, but she understood the tide of her own power and how to direct it rather than allowing it to direct her.  Kandomere turned away to sit in one of the armchairs as resentment flared powerfully inside him and the world flickered briefly in red and purple.

"You've been learning," Tikka said, approval a warm note in her voice.  "The magic is contained inside you.  Well done."

"I had some help," Ward admitted.

"I'm sure you have," Tikka said, her whole manner a subtle insinuation.  Kandomere crossed one leg over the other and occupied himself with unclenching his hands and gently interlacing them on one knee. 

"Right," Ward said, sensing something amiss, glancing a question at Kandomere which the Elf promptly ignored.  He watched calmly as the other three ranged out over the single couch opposite him.

"How have you been?" Jakoby asked Tikka, entirely oblivious to any undercurrents in the conversation.  Worshipful affection gently colored his words and his scent, and Kandomere let himself relax to hear it.  "Where have you been?"

"Recovering," she admitted.  "Far from here, as you understand distance.  I came when I could."

"Just in time," Ward said, and there was genuine pleasure in his voice, but also suspicion.

"Yes," Tikka said, smiling, confirming his unspoken accusation.  "I've been watching."

"Why am I not surprised?  Could've used you a bit sooner, you know."

"Magic rebound is not an easy thing to heal," Tikka said.  "And brother needed the time."

"Don't call me that," Kandomere said again, pleasantly he thought, but some of the anger must have escaped his control because Jakoby turned to him with wide eyes.  "We are not coven bound."

"We needn't be coven to be bound," Tikka said, and then in Övüsi:  " _We walk together, for your future is as my future_."

"I won't be trapped into an oath with you," Kandomere said, unmoved, and the binding unravelled between them when he refused to complete the circuit.  "This is my home.  You are a guest here and owe me courtesy."

"This is not your home," she corrected gently. "A home requires roots, and you have none."

"Tikka!" Jakoby gasped in admonishment.

"This is more a home than some others you have," she continued fearlessly, undaunted.  "More than the one in Elftown, where you might sleep but never rest.  But for now this is only a place, one where you pretend at feeling safe to mask the emptiness inside."

"Tikka, shut up," Ward said as red and black patterned over Kandomere's sight like lightning.

" _Be silent_ ," he told her in Övüsi.  " _Or I will silence you_."

" _Brother -_ "

" _Don't call me that_ ," Kandomere heard himself thunder, and was moving before he quite realized it.  He stopped only because Ward got in his way, faster than Kandomere would have given the Human credit for.  Jakoby sat very silent and very still.

"Hey," Ward said, one hand extended in peace, touching Kandomere's chest lightly with the tips of his fingers.  Borrowed magic crawled beneath Kandomere's skin to that point of contact, a silent yearning.  "Let's all just calm down."

"She is out of line," Kandomere said, glaring around the Human.  He expected Tikka to look triumphant, but instead she just looked sorrowful as she sat quietly with both hands open in plain view on her knees.  It took Kandomere a moment to recognize the gesture for what it was, the open posture the same as he'd adopted when he'd been trying to convince the Elf boy of their good intentions.  The incongruous body language knocked Kandomere out of the mire of his rage.

"Yeah, she is," Ward said, tapping him twice gently with middle and index fingers until Kandomere looked back at him.  The Human kept the hand on him, correctly sensing the danger hadn't yet passed.  "And she's winding you up like a clock, and you're letting her.  Chill out."

"Don't speak of what you don't understand," Kandomere said sharply.

"Dude," Ward said.  "Chill. The Fuck. Out."

It was clear there would be no getting around Ward without resorting to violence, so Kandomere grudgingly retreated back to his chair, wrath unsatisfied.

"Tikka," Ward said without taking his eyes off Kandomere.  A wise move.  "What the fuck."

"I meant no insult or injury," Tikka said.  "If it hurt to hear, it's not because I meant it cruelly, but because the truth is cruel."

"Then why say it?" Jakoby asked, and Kandomere was unexpectedly warmed by the Orc's quiet support.

"Because it can be changed," Tikka said, answering Jakoby but addressing Kandomere.  "You are not the only one alone.  I speak from my own experience."

"Then you may speak your own truths," Kandomere said.  "And leave mine out of it."

Tikka bowed her head, wrapping both arms around her torso.  Kandomere refused to be moved by this show of contrition.

"I overstepped," Tikka said softly.  "I only hoped we might share in this.  I apologize."

"Accepted," Kandomere said by rote, grudgingly, anger still a mere breath away.  "Well met."

"One more of my truths will I give you, and then I will say no more," she said, and his leashed instincts tried to force him up and over to quiet her before she could speak, but it would be folly; Ward still stood in the way and the Human wouldn't let him pass except by force.

"I think we've all had enough truth for one day," Ward said.

"One more," she replied doggedly.  "Kandomere, though you do not claim me, I claim you.  And as long as you are true, I will offer you neither judgment nor scorn, and I will never turn from you, nor break trust willingly.  In this I will be your sister, until you are ready to be my brother."

Breath felt suddenly scarce and all four of them were still in a frozen tableau for endless moments.

"You do not know me," Kandomere said when he found words again.  "And you are a fool to offer that to a stranger who once hunted you.  Who's hunted others."

"I've dreamt the man you are," Tikka said, like a hammer blow.  "And the one you will be.  I do know you.  Keep your truths, for now, but my resolve will not change."    

"You can't," Kandomere said, feeling strangely disconnected.

"I already have," Tikka said.  "A lifetime is a long time to be alone, and I'm tired of it."

Kandomere found himself on his feet in the kitchen without a clear memory of how he'd gotten there.  He reached out to turn on the faucet so he could listen to the gentle rush of water hitting the sink bowl; the sound was soothing, and had always reminded him vaguely of the low babble of a river, the closest he could find to one in the city.  He lost himself in picturing the eddies of it, the clean sweep of Nature wiping away all dirt and filth in its path.  He counted each breath and beat of his heart against the current, until the staccato drum of his pulse began to slow.

By the time Ward came to find him he couldn't say for certain how many minutes had passed, but he felt much calmer.

"Hello," Kandomere said as the Human walked silently into the room.  He turned off the water and the silence seemed to ring.

"So, that was some awkward shit," Ward said boldly into it, and Kandomere laughed involuntarily, painfully.

"I believe that's an understatement."

"You cool?" Ward asked, adding another layer of awkwardness.

"No," Kandomere said.  "But don't concern yourself.  I know feelings are not your strong suit."

"Wouldn't think they were yours, either."

"For a long time, they weren't," Kandomere said.  "But the challenge in locking them away is they sometimes break out unexpectedly.  Instinct and emotion are closely entwined for Elves; one often leads to the other.  I'll need to start learning a new way to manage them."

"Sorry."

"It isn't your fault," Kandomere said.  "Though you are to blame."

"Man, seriously?  Talking to Elves is bullshit," Ward said.  "None of you people make sense.  If you're not talking riddles, you're talking Elvish."

"Or Elvish riddles," Kandomere said.  "We have few, but what few we have are rather interesting.  Would you like to hear one?"

" _No_ ," Ward said firmly, and Kandomere smiled.

"You left Tikka alone with Jakoby?"

"Yeah.  Figured it was safe when Nick started in on the knock-knock jokes," Ward lied, straight faced.

"Should we rejoin them?" Kandomere asked.

"If you're up to it," Ward said, and his concern was unspoken but genuine, and strong in his scent.  Kandomere blinked away a hint of green, touched by the silent support.

"Of course," was all Kandomere said, and then, because humor was an infectious disease,  reached into one of the nearby cupboards and withdrew a bottle of familiar clear liquid.  He offered it to Ward innocently.  "But perhaps some wine first?"

" _No_ ," Ward said, scowling fiercely, and Kandomere laughed again and felt the final lingering vestiges of sorrow ebb away at last.


	8. Chapter 8

Ward showed up at the task force division office on a memorable Wednesday afternoon.  The timing of it was unfortunate on a number of levels, but mostly because Kandomere was leaving with Montehugh to follow-up on an Inferni sighting and only just caught a glimpse of the Human as they were getting in the car.

"Hey," Montehugh said, squinting.  "Isn't that the LAPD cop, the guy with the Orc partner - what's his name?"

He made a show of considering Ward, who was taking the steps into the task force building two at a time as he jogged up to the front entrance.   Kandomere shrugged, brushing off the encounter as if he couldn't feel the involuntary flush of color try to steal into his eyes and ears, the sudden shock of adrenaline coursing through him.  

"Does it matter?" he asked, slipping into the passenger side of the vehicle.  Montehugh took a moment to round the car awkwardly; Kandomere had originally been aiming for the driver's side, but now he needed his hands free to check his phone.  Ward knew better than to leave a message on his business or personal line, but then he also knew better than to contact Kandomere at the office except in the most dire circumstances.  Still, he made himself wait four minutes while Montehugh backed them off the road and into traffic, then checked for missed messages, texts, e-mails.  Nothing.  And Kandomere couldn't very well pull out the burner phone with his partner sitting next to him.  He would have to be patient and check later.  He reminded himself that Elves had long lives for a reason and patience was one of their many virtues.  It did not help.

The call-out appeared unnecessary, in any case.  The Inferni cell was silent and still by the time they got there, SWAT and security forces rolling in front of them to clear the premises as they went.  Kandomere scented the air in three of the rooms before he gave it up as a lost cause; the house had been abandoned.

"The anonymous tip described a blue wand light as recently as today," Kandomere noted to Montehugh as they stepped aside to let security officers pass.  "A false account, perhaps?"

"The tech guys traced it back to this general area, narrowed to three blocks.  Dispatch said the caller was adamant she saw lights and explosions and shit."

"Hmm," Kandomere said.  There was certainly no evidence of such activity now.  Curious that a caller concerned with anonymity would stay on the line long enough for even that much of a trace.  His phone began to vibrate a moment later and he took it from an inside pocket, glancing once at the caller ID and then again when he recognized the number.  He stared, sketching a circle with his thumb above the green receiving button.

"Problems?" Montehugh asked, and Kandomere shrugged it away, tucking the phone back into his pocket unanswered.  He couldn't possibly pick it up here, not without absenting himself suspiciously.  And Jakoby should know better than to try, most especially from his own number, which could be easily traced.  Kandomere's misgivings burned brighter.

"Blocked number," he explained shortly.

"Fucking telemarketers," Montehugh said.

"Sir!" Kandomere turned to see a woman in a black tactical vest and helmet wave to him from one side of the room.

"Yes?" he asked, walking toward her.

"We'll have to wait before advancing," she said. "This door won't open.  We broke the locking mechanism but the deadbolt won't dislodge; no obstruction that we can see.  We're bringing up the battering ram."

He reached with his fingertips to examine the door and wall where the lock had been destroyed.  He was a hair's breadth away when every instinct for self preservation he had rang through him like a gong.  He stilled, wondering what it was that had caught his unconscious attention.  He scented the dead, hollow air, and again could intuit nothing at all from the room, the house, or the surrounding area.

Wait.  That wasn't right. 

There were people in this room; the security officer beside him, Montehugh behind him, a dozen others milling around inside and outside, all noisy and grating harshly over his more mundane senses.  How could there possibly be no scent?

He withdrew his hand, a feeling of deep foreboding lodging hard in his chest.  Careful not to touch, he leaned forward and turned so his left ear and nose pressed close to the seam of the door and wall.

He listened, tuning out everything else, and leant the borrowed magic inside him his ears, nose, and sight until it began to whisper to him of the things beyond the door.  He wouldn't have been able to do it if Ward's magic hadn't begun to stretch inside him over the last months, growing familiar in the same way his own hair or skin or breath was familiar.  He still wouldn't have even thought to try if Ward hadn't come to him last night, if the Human's magic wasn't a living ribbon of power inside him, spilling secrets into his mind. 

Kandomere sensed the warmth of recent occupation, the ghostly memory of people rushing by, things being moved, stored, taken away, left behind.  One woman had passed close by, an Elf, one other had been rushing after her, a few more after that.  One had moved with slow deliberation all around the room, marking corners, looking for things unaccounted for, unrushed, untroubled, confident.  Deliberate hands had sketched out a space on the other side of the door, brushed away at old wood to clear dust and left a streak of warm life behind.  A hand had come to press at eye level, something foreign and mechanical creating a void as the woman retreated away.  Even now there was a faint sense of the mechanism remaining, attached, with the telling vibration of an electronic device.  Beyond the shroud of the scent shield, the magic shuddered with the presence of chemicals and the faint click of a digital marker counting down in even increments like the beat of a drum.

A timer.

"Get out," Kandomere said, stepping back.

"Sir?" the woman asked.

"Everyone out," he repeated calmly, seeing the blur of seconds ticking away from the other side.  "Now."

"I - yes, sir!"

"What's going on?" Montehugh asked as Kandomere walked with measured paces by him.

"There is a magical shroud in place, blocking me," Kandomere said.  "We will need to approach this with caution." He raised his voice to be heard, tapped the received in his ear.  "Everyone out.  You have two minutes."

They had five, and the Humans were skeptical of the danger, but Kandomere was more frightening than anything else the security teams thought they knew existed in this house.  They would scramble to obey not because they understood his caution, but because they feared what he would do to them, the power he had over them, if they did not.

He counted them as they came out, trying to recall exactly how many had gone in.  Once, the numbers would have meant as little to him as the number of rodents lining the streets behind him.  Even now their loss would trouble but not cripple him; Kandomere had learned interest in the lives of other races over the last two hundred years, but he could never be accused of  excessive altruism.

When the last officer had come out, Kandomere walked casually away from the building, seeing most of them follow him like seeds drifting along the wind.  It was vaguely amusing.  A few stayed where they were, nearer to the building than might be safe but probably far enough to save them from major injury to anything except their pride.  In his mind's eye a timer he'd never seen counted down the minutes and seconds. 

When it was nearly finished, Kandomere made sure to be on the phone with the bomb and ordinance removal squad.  He had never liked that division leader.

"Yes, your teams will be expected to clear the building," Kandomere said to him as the Human stupidly protested.  "No, we have not seen signs of a bomb yet.  The setup is suspicious and the timing poor and there is a shroud in place to muffle the senses.  I believe caution will be more prudent than haste.  You have ten minutes to put your teams in order before I expect you here."

"Sir, unless you've seen actual signs of a bomb, we can't -"

Behind Kandomere, an explosion knocked out one side of the building, collapsing the roof and the support struts right down to the foundation.  The shock wave kicked one of the security vehicles three feet backward, slamming into two officers who fell with panicked shouts.  Another four had gone down immediately with the force of the blast.  Two remained on their feet, one grabbing a nearby light pole with mouth agape, and Montehugh -

Montehugh was on his feet and staring directly at him.

Kandomere stared back, assessing, before he forced himself to look away.

"I will let that stand as all the 'sign' you require," Kandomere said into the phone, and hung up on him and went to arrange damage control.

By the time the bomb squad was on site and the injuries of the security and task force crew had been seen to - four minor: cuts, abrasions, damaged ear drums - two major: concussion, broken wrist, broken collarbone - Kandomere had missed two more calls from Jakoby, and he could only imagine how many would be waiting on his burner phone.  Either way, he had neither the time nor the inclination to bother with them now; doubtless their efforts had something to do with the trap his team had nearly walked into, and they would have to discuss it later.  Much later.

Four hours went by in an exhausting confusion of medical reports, some rather entertaining interactions with the bomb squad division leader who refused to meet Kandomere's eyes, the fire department, a number of city officials, and two of the other task force division leaders.  Kandomere ultimately answered to no one but their Director, who would not lower herself to investigate a minor explosion in an unproven Inferni cell, but division leads did consult in cases like this.  Updating them wasn't difficult; as fellow Elves, they had little care for Kandomere's life or any other, and thus conversation was kept to a bare minimum.  He warned them of the possible dangers and the circumstances of the anonymous tip, and that was that.

The Human element of the chaos, however, was not so easily appeased.

"You mind breaking down for me what happened here?" Montehugh asked, deceptively calm.  Kandomere could see his suspicion even without scenting him - the shroud had vanished when the building blew, thankfully - and considered how best to put him off.

"It would seem the Inferni don't take kindly to being pushed out of Los Angeles," Kandomere said.

"We've been hunting them for years; you for decades longer than I have.  What made this time any different?"

"Much has changed in the last year," Kandomere said.  "With Leilah dead and Tikka missing and possibly with a wand in hand, perhaps the Inferni have changed their tactics.  This may have been an opportunity too good to let pass."

"Too good to let you pass, maybe," Montehugh said.

Kandomere felt the world come into immediate focus, honing in sharply.  "What?"

"Nothing," Montehugh said, and while his face was as placid and dense as usual, his eyes were unexpectedly shrewd.  "I just think it's weird, right?  It's been quiet all summer, and even when other teams went out, nothing.  Then suddenly today we get a strange tip, one specifically mentioning a wand, so of course you and me both head out.  And then you can't sense anything when we walk into the house, and then bam."

"Yes, it's clear they left the bomb behind knowing a team would come," Kandomere said, ignoring the rest.  "The question is not why, but why now."

"Yeah, but did they leave the bomb because they got wind a team was coming," Montehugh said, "or did they leave the bomb after arranging for a team to come?  And that would be a team with you on it, otherwise why use the shroud?"

"Likely we will never know," Kandomere said, scenting all he could from his second, who smelled mostly of cigars, smoke, and bland curiosity and concern.  Montehugh clearly suspected Kandomere had been targeted somehow - why, and why the man would question him about it now was unclear.  But any deeper anger or suspicion or discontent was either too well hidden to scent (unlikely) or nonexistent.

Still.  Kandomere had been counting on his own status and apparent invulnerability among the task force to deter any enquiries along these lines.  Montehugh could usually be counted on to be bland and indifferent; the Human's intuition was unfortunately timed.

"We'll have to be vigilant for any further such traps," Kandomere said, and Montehugh shrugged, nodding.

"Right.  I'll let the folks in dispatch know.  Maybe you should head back to the office, sort things out there," Montehugh said.

Kandomere was irritated at the presumption and would have told him to see to his own affairs and leave Kandomere to his, but he'd been going to suggest the same division of labor anyway.  He went without further prodding.

Arriving back at the office after the chaos of the last hours was something of a shock.  He had a great many things to occupy him and the sudden peace reminded him belatedly of the phone calls from Jakoby.  He'd checked once in harried passing an hour ago and there had been more calls waiting, but returning them had never been prudent.  He imagined there were many more messages on the burner phone.  He would need to arrange privacy to check that later.

He'd barely made it up the steps and through one checkpoint and into the building when he found himself unexpectedly taken by the arm and pulled hard into an alcove on one side.  Instinct was a bright spark inside him; he'd thrown his assailant into the wall and had a hand up on a warm throat beating hard with life before the momentum had faded.  He was reaching for a weapon when a hand took his wrist in an iron grip and shoved him off.

There was no shock of energy, but the sudden pull of magic inside him, gravitating toward a familiar source, was enough to send him staggering back a step.

"If you fucking draw a weapon on me, man," Ward said. "I will put a bullet in your shoulder before you can fire, I swear.  Hear me?"

His voice was thin and a bit muffled; Kandomere's hand had drawn automatically tight around his windpipe.  He relaxed his grip immediately.

"What are you doing here?" Kandomere asked, mind five steps ahead and ablaze with all the possible fallout from this stupidity.  "You _can't_ be here.  How long have you been waiting in this corridor?"

"Too fucking long," Ward growled, then tried to put his head back out into the hall - to check for other people presumably - before Kandomere yanked him back hard.

"You put us both in danger, coming here," Kandomere said, the smell of chemicals and smoke still heady in his nose.  He'd spent four hours today ignoring the fact he'd nearly been killed, his long life literally minutes away from ending in an anticlimactic rush of flame and fire.  Ward's face was a shock of the unknown when he'd been so careful to keep everything to rigid, controlled routine thus far.  "If you were seen -"

"Of course I was seen," Ward said, shaking off Kandomere's grip.  "I made sure I had a legitimate alibi.  I came by earlier but you were out and ignored all our calls like an asshole.  This is one of the few junctions you got to come down to get to your office that don't have camera coverage.  Ain't no one watching.  Chill out."

"You will get us all killed with your blatant disregard for the threats around you," Kandomere said.

" _Fuck_ you, man, we've been trying to reach you all day to warn you!  If all you going to do is snipe at me -" Ward stopped, seemed to gather his thoughts, and then darted out from the alcove before Kandomere could stop him.  The Elf went after him, red flicking over his eyesight like afterimages of the explosion.

"Come on," Ward said, and took off walking, and it wasn't until they were three corridors away that Kandomere realized they were heading for the interview rooms, the only area of the building Ward would know well.  He caught up and shouldered past the Human without a word so at least it would seem he was leading Ward, not the other way around.  They passed by two security cameras on the way and each time Kandomere felt as though there were a target on his back awaiting a bullet.  Ward had been insane to come here, like this.  Any connection between them was dangerous, but twice in one day, how could the Human have been so foolish -

Eventually they came to the safe room after passing through the two locked junctions and Kandomere let them in, pressing harder than he'd intended on the reader so the heat sensor blurred briefly with the impact.

"Why the fuck didn't you answer your phone?" Ward asked, charging right into it before the door had even fully shut.

"Be _silent_.  I will ask questions," Kandomere said.  "Jakoby called me from his own phone five times today.  How could you two jeopardize all our safety with such stupidity?  What were you thinking?"

Ward snarled wordlessly, surging up close until they were near enough to share breath, share anger and worry and fear between them, cycling on an endless loop.

"We were _thinking_ ," Ward said, heavily, "that maybe we ought to try and save your stupid life before the Inferni managed to fucking _assassinate_ you."

Kandomere blinked, started to take a step back and thought better of it.

"What did you discover?" he asked, considering.  He'd thought the many messages might be related to some danger the others had encountered, but assassination?

"Tikka heard rumors the Inferni were planning to try something soon, maybe today even.  You've been cracking down on them hard," Ward said, also seeming to subside now Kandomere was no longer feeding into his aggression.  Normally the Elf was much better about managing Ward's moods, but today had been somewhat more trying than most.

"Rumors seem little enough provocation for breaking the agreed lines of silence," Kandomere said.

"Yeah, well, these rumors came with some pretty specific death threats, plans, etcetera," Ward said.  "And you weren't answering the other phone."

"Where did the rumors originate?  From which coven?"

"All of them.  You're going to have to be careful answering call outs from now on; from what Tikka heard, they're on the lookout for you, specifically, hoping if they cut this off at the head they'll get off scot-free."

"Ah," Kandomere said, experiencing what he thought might be - sheepishness.  Embarrassed contrition?  What a strange sensation.  He'd never had the like before.  He didn't think he cared for it at all.

"Yes," he said.  "That would explain why the Inferni cell we investigated today blew up after we arrived."

"What?" Ward said.

"There was a bomb.  It seems the Inferni anticipated my being there; they placed a shroud over the building to blind my senses.  I didn't notice anything amiss until one room in particular was a complete blank.  I should have been able to scent it and couldn't."  He wondered if he should tell Ward about using his magic; it seemed prudent, but the Human sometimes flew into anger at the strangest things -

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ward shouted.

\- and this seemed a case in point.

"There's no cause for alarm," Kandomere said, a tiring day suddenly seeming that much more wearisome. "No one was killed.  I was able to -" he hesitated before resigning himself to full disclosure.

"I was able to borrow your magic for my use, " he said, gesturing in what he realized was a very vague fashion at his own ears.  "I sensed the bomb and evacuated the building before it could detonate.  Before today, I hadn't realized seeded magic could be used for something quite like this.  The utility was interesting."

"You -" Ward started, then turned around furiously to pace in three quick strides away and back.

"Okay," Ward said, brusquely.  "There are so many things wrong with what you just said, I'm going to start with the most obvious.  First: are you fucking crazy?"

"No," Kandomere said.

"I think you'll find most people would _disagree with you_.  When did this shit happen?"

"This afternoon."

"So right about when you should have been _answering your fucking phone_ ," Ward said with particular emphasis.  Kandomere shrugged, not about to go into the how's and why's of that impossibility.  Ward knew it already; the Human simply enjoyed blatantly ignoring reality at his own leisure.

"So," Ward said, voice losing all momentum as the man looked down at his feet with a frown.  "Are you alright then?  Not bleeding out somewhere under that suit of yours, right?"

"Yes, I'm well," Kandomere said.

"Fine," Ward said, not looking up.  "Good.  And also: what the fuck with the magic?"

"Yes," Kandomere said, content enough to take the discussion in less personal directions.  "I'm not sure it's wise for me to draw your magic any more.  I've never been a magic user, but when my instincts were heightened I leaned on it without considering the consequences, and it came too easily.  If it responds to me at a less opportune moment there might be disastrous consequences."

"Well, since it happened to save your life today," Ward said, rolling his eyes, "I don't know you got any cause to complain."

"I'm not complaining," Kandomere said.  "Merely giving you an opportunity to discontinue our activities if you wish.  They may be unnecessary, anyway, with Tikka teaching you." 

"Man, the shit Tikka's been showing me, I feel like I have more magic in me, not less.  If I could give it all to you, you know I would.  Use it, go crazy.  If it keeps you alive I got no problems here," Ward said.

"It is a very intimate and terrible thing," Kandomere said.  "Stealing the magic of another."

"You ain't stealing," Ward corrected. "I'm giving.  Besides, how the hell would I keep mine in check without, uh, the thing we do.  Have it, man."

Yes, the Human became angry or not-angry at the _strangest_ things.

"But maybe next time," Ward continued as he placed his hands on his hips, snug to his belt. "You could just answer your fucking phone."

"That you would call me at all on my work line is folly," Kandomere said.  "I gave you that line for dire emergencies only."

"This _was_ a fucking emergency," Ward shouted.

Clearly there would be no reasoning with the man until he got over the mood he was in.

"I will be more vigilant in future," Kandomere settled on saying, and thankfully that was the end of it.

"What happened after?" Ward asked.

"Although no one was killed, there were injuries and procedures to follow.  The afternoon was quite chaotic.  How did you know I was returning now?"

"Didn't," Ward said.  "We got off a call out to West Thirty-Ninth about an hour ago; I had Nick drop me here on our way back."

"Unwise," Kandomere commented but subsided when Ward bristled in annoyance.

"I thank you for your concern," Kandomere continued, the ritual words coming reluctantly to his tongue, twining as they always did with intent.  Ward wouldn't understand the significance, in any case -

"Your concerns are mine, and so they are one," Ward replied, and Kandomere narrowed his eyes at him, glaring darkly.

"Tikka's been teaching you more than magic," he muttered, feeling the oath settle on him like an ill-fitting suit.  Kandomere had given that oath twice before in his life but he'd never been in receipt of it; it chafed.

Tikka overstepped herself.  It was not for her to teach Ward the old Elf rituals.  Kandomere strongly suspected that she'd taught Ward the words, but not necessarily the significance.  He doubted the Human would appreciate being tricked in such a way.  The bindings had never been meant for outsiders and certainly not for the uninitiated or the unknowing.

"Yeah," Ward said. "I asked her to explain some of the Elf voodoo bullshit you always seem to do without telling me what you're doing.  Most of it goes, like, right over my head, but some of it I remember at the strangest times.  Just seems to pop up out of nowhere.  It's fucking weird."

"Yes," Kandomere said.  There was a reason Elves were drawn so closely to magic that even their language could focus its energy into physical intent.  Ritual and form were important for an Elf, and knowledge settled very deeply into the bones, bubbling to the surface unexpectedly as the need arose.

"Hey, you know something I've been meaning to ask," Ward said, looking around, the Human's body settling back into a comfortable slouch now the emotional swing between them had been balanced again. 

"Yes?"

"What the fuck is up with this room, anyway?" Ward asked.  "Why does it even exist?  Doesn't it seem a little suspicious?  I mean, there's like ten other rooms down this corridor, this is the only one with a thousand different layers of security, and only you can use it.  What gives?"

Kandomere closed his eyes, all the peace which had started to flow back into him leaping sharply away.  Of course Ward would ask this now.  _Of course_ he would latch on to the one thing Kandomere had hoped might never come up between them.

He could lie; probably he _should_ lie.  To tell Ward honestly would be foolishness of the highest order.  But almost a year ago, here in this room, they had started a journey together united in wary, fledgling trust.  And it seemed perverse and appalling to break that now, when it was so very important they continue on in this together.

Ward was strange for a Human.  He had accepted things, people, cultures and teachings many others would have balked at.  Perhaps he could learn to accept this too, one day.

"Why does this room exist?" Kandomere asked him, weary and impatient.  "Can you not guess?"

"Uh, no," Ward said, his focus like a sudden storm as it banked, perhaps sensing the sudden tension in the room, perhaps just reacting to Kandomere's unexpected belligerence. "Why the hell would I be able to guess?"

"Perhaps I simply wish you would," Kandomere said.  "Think on this closely.  Why is there a room totally devoid of opportunity for others to watch, completely removed from the public eye, built into the Magic Task Force building in an area where there are no security cameras?  Indeed, why is there such a room built into every task force building, keyed to one operator, always an Elf, either a division head or their second, and why is it kept carefully away or hidden from the rest of the mixed-raced staff?  Think about what I have told you of the Elves, about what they might need such a room for.  Can you not guess why it's here?"

Ward stared at him, his expression and scent draining away into a gray blank.  "No, that's.  No."

"Yes," Kandomere said, looking into his eyes, the rich brown of them almost black, dilating as adrenaline surged in the  Human's system.  The horror of it hadn't quite caught up to Ward yet, the information just settling.  But it would in moments, seconds.

"But they wouldn't bring them here," Ward said.  "This is too public a place, a building.  They wouldn't.  They ain't stupid."

"Not always here," Kandomere said.  "But when there is someone it would be easy enough to vanish into a large government system, someone whose words should be heard but not recorded on camera, someone who needs to be contained or managed.  They come here.  Have you never wondered why, of all the government buildings in this city, this division is one of the few that has no magic detectors on site?"

"No," Ward repeated, not answer or denial, just a single shocked repetition.  "That's - not here in the city, where anyone might see."

"But no one sees," Kandomere said.  "There's an alternate entrance through the back corridors, and there is no surveillance on the interrogation level.  The hallways behind which we came are print-locked, just as this room is print-locked.  By me."

"You -" Temper rose quickly, heating Ward's skin through with a flush of rage.  Disgust curled bitterly into his scent like filth and Kandomere looked away.  He had expected nothing less, but that did not contain the sourness of it, the sadness for a light briefly experienced and probably now extinguished.  Was this worth the honesty?  For the cause, yes.  For himself, no.

"Me," Kandomere admitted.

"That's how you knew - _of course_ that's how you fucking knew.  The killing - _the executions_ \- that's not something just any Elf would know.  Maybe it's common knowledge to your rich-ass bosses and shit, but you only know because you -"

"A hundred years I acted faithfully as an enforcer for my kind," Kandomere said.  "A hundred more to understand my shame in being part of it.  Another hundred before I was well-established enough to refuse the honor; one cannot easily remove oneself from the hierarchy of it.  It takes a great deal of influence, position, power.  Money."

" _The honor_ -"

"That is how they see it," Kandomere said, vaguely impressed Ward hadn't tried to attack him yet.  The Human wanted to; he could smell the impetus of it, the urge to wipe away what he no doubt saw as smug or callous indifference.  Violence was a muted charge in the air, crackling like lightning.  It might actually _become_ lightning if Ward let the magic through; the scent of ozone was thickening with every second.

"They," Ward repeated.

"They," Kandomere confirmed.  "It's been an age since I was last - involved.  Generations before your birth, certainly.  But once it was me, yes.  My last was a young girl, an Orc actually.  The times were different, then; technology didn't exist in any real capacity.  She was twenty-two; younger than some, older than most.  Many Brights made it to adulthood in those days, went on to live longer than they do today, some even to die a natural death, their magic yet sleeping inside them.  But she was caught, there's no telling how - and shortly after that she was found to have committed some minor crime, I can't recall the exact charge.  I suppose it no longer matters.  She came under investigation, I brought her into a room very like this one in a building that no longer exists, and she never left."

Kandomere waited for Ward to hit him, rush at him, shout, throw something.  Anything.  The Human still seethed in a miasma of rage, but he made no move to give in to the violence beneath his skin.  Kandomere was almost disappointed.  He would have hoped for at least - something.  Not this silence.  This inaction.

"Her family never learned what happened to her," he said, to drive the point home.  Still, Ward said and did nothing.  "They looked for many years."  He found he himself had to look away; his face felt oddly warm, the tips of his ears two bright points of fire, and a haze was falling over his eyes like fog.  Everything seemed disconnected and disjointed. 

He didn't look back at Ward, fixing his eyes instead in the corner of the room where bland paint and plaster came together.  He noticed a faint wrinkle in the drywall there and traced it back and forth six times, seven, eight. 

"She had beautiful markings; as unusual purple color," Kandomere finished in a voice that felt far away.  "She wanted desperately to be an artist, because there were no Orc artists then.  There were no Orc anything's then.  Her name was Gina."

They stood that way for a long time while Kandomere invented designs in the wavering lines of paint before him, seeing there the faint imprint of markings from an Orc long dead.  The minutes ticked by in fragile silence and he realized he was rubbing two fingers on his left hand together, a sense-memory shivering through him.  He could just barely feel the black edges of it threatening to spill past the lock and key he kept such things under, and he shuttled it away before it could quite surface.  The whole world was underwater, sluggish and slow.

Kandomere felt a hand settle unexpectedly on his shoulder and blinked himself back into the moment.  He looked to find Ward closer than he'd expected, and was further surprised to see the world brilliantly shaded in color.  He waited for it to pass and it did so very slowly.

"Why do your eyes do that?" Ward asked.

"What?"

"Your eyes, man.  All you Elves have freaky eyes, all clear white and shit.  But sometimes yours have color; other times it's not there."

"That is - it is as our sense of smell," Kandomere said, heard himself stumble and blamed the lingering sting of past wrongs for causing it.  "It is a deeply personal thing.  It is the way of Elves."

"They change with strong emotions, right?  Or whenever there's magic involved."

"That is - surprisingly perceptive," Kandomere said lowly, frowning.

"Well, yours ain't the only ones that do it," Ward said.  "Tikka's do sometimes, too.  Guess it's just proof you guys give a shit."

Kandomere felt decidedly off balance, hollowed out and tired in a way he never had before.  He'd been braced for something; an attack, an injury.  Some part of him had even wanted it, some punishment that might allow him penance for things that could never be forgiven.  Now there was this; this quiet understanding from a man who should hate him, as Kandomere hated himself, hated all the years he'd been such a stupid, pitiless fool who followed his orders without questioning, who naively did not understand or care about the very great wrongs he did to others.  He'd never taken pleasure in it, unlike so many of his kind, but he'd believed them when they said that others must die to secure Elf survival, and he'd killed many in the name of a war that had ended millennia ago.  Once he'd surfaced from his own repulsive folly he'd fought and scrambled and searched endlessly for someone to help him end the death and the silence.  And now he'd found someone, and they stood together as they built change.  But that still couldn't undo the things he'd done before, a lifetime ago.

"You should hate me," Kandomere told Ward, in case the Human had somehow forgotten he could do so. "I've done unimaginably terrible things.  You must understand that.  Do not think I was an innocent led to my fate.  I went there willingly."

"You think you're the only one who's killed people?" Ward said.  "Good people, even, who maybe just made a few mistakes in life, turned down the wrong road at the wrong time?  You think I haven't killed for a cause?  Nick hasn't, but you think his family won't have?  Tikka?"

"For the right cause," Kandomere said.

"Not always.  Don't think I didn't turn my back on a lot of really bad shit sometimes, before - all this.  You think you know racism?  You've never seen Humans in power do it."

"You have not killed for an unrighteous cause," Kandomere said. "You would not."

"That's true," Ward admitted.  "But Tikka has, more than once.  You know her and truth, man; she don't believe in secrets.  She was an Inferni for a long time before she started her training.  She saw and did some really bad shit.  And she warned me you'd been around more'n four hundred years.  Always knew there had to be some skeletons in your closet."

"It cannot be this easy," Kandomere said to himself.

"Oh, it ain't.  I'm really fucking pissed at you, and yeah, what you did a hundred, two hundred years ago, that shit's pretty damn bad.  That don't change what we're doing today.  You going to tell me you spent two hundred years getting fat off the spoils of war and didn't bother saving the ones you could?"

"Of course not.  What few I could free, I did, more in the beginning than could be managed later.  The age of technology bound me in ways that hadn't existed before; what I alone might have known forty or even twenty years ago, now many others are notified of instantaneously.  The last I saved was two years ago, a Dwarf with known inter-racial sympathies who would have been killed since he couldn't be converted.  None since."

"Yeah, you're a real louse," Ward said.  "I can't believe I'm on a fucking quest with a guy who's only saved one person from execution in two years and spent all his free time looking for a way to end the superiority of his own race.  Like, man, have you even been trying?"

"To use a phrase with which you are familiar: fuck off," Kandomere retorted.

"See, that's more like it," Ward said.  "Look, we're not going to vote you off the island because you have a shitty past.  There's only one innocent in this little quartet we have, and it's the fucking _Orc_.  But I do reserve the right to harass you about your past because, dude, four hundred years; you're fucking ancient."

They would survive this, Kandomere realized.  In spite of all his own fears, the dread which had haunted him every time he'd sat at Ward's side wicking magic from his skin and wondering when it would all end in righteous fury, the Human had cut through to the heart of the matter with his usual brand of blunt force insolence.  Ward's acceptance was unwinding everything Kandomere thought he'd known about himself.

"Age denotes wisdom," Kandomere said finally.  "If I am old and wise, perhaps that means you will listen more closely when I speak."

"Yeah, no," Ward said.  "I wouldn't bet on that."

"Do you treat all your elders this way?" Kandomere asked with false outrage.

"No, just the really fucking annoying ones."


	9. Chapter 9

Magic Task Force went on high alert, the division falling back cautiously now that the Inferni were on the offensive with no clear signs when or how they might strike again.  As the months slipped by, anonymous tips continued to roll in, some of them legitimate, many of them false.  Twice more coven lairs were baited and trapped with explosives, too randomly to be easily predictable.  Kandomere felt hunted in a way he never had before and wondered for the first time if this is what it felt like to be a Bright.  There was a certain irony to it; the hunter becoming the hunted.

By that point dispatch was on the lookout for the anomalous calls.  It was easy enough to identify the pattern; the reports were always careful to mention a specific element that protocol would demand a division lead respond to.  Sometimes it was magical; a wand, a blue glow, a clearly unnatural aspect or event.  Other times it was more mundane; a potential hostage, an immediate threat, the possibility of collateral damage.  But the end result was always the same: for one reason or another, Kandomere was obliged to respond.  He was the common element.  And it wasn't long before knowledge of the Inferni objective spread through the building like wildfire.

Kandomere found himself gaining shadows, agents crowding close where before they might have scattered, intimidated.  He had always been a thing beyond their understanding; a sovereign looking down from on high, an icon distant and apart.  But now he was a leader whose perception saved lives, one who was clearly the target of a coordinated plan of attack.  Agents began to drift into Kandomere's domain who would never have risked his attention before, some of them simply choosing to work in close proximity, others volunteering with unprecedented speed to join the field agents when Kandomere attended a raid.  Their urge to protect was obvious and irritating.  And entirely unnecessary.  Kandomere told them so in no uncertain terms, and was annoyed when he only managed to intimidate a handful into abandoning their good intentions.  He strongly suspected Montehugh of influencing them, because the Human had become one of his staunchest defenders and nothing Kandomere said or did managed to dissuade him -

"Maybe you should sit this one out," Montehugh said.

"Out of the question," Kandomere said, and slammed the car door in his face.

"Just saying, boss," Montehugh continued some minutes later as they rode out to the scene. "There's no reason one of the other Elves can't scan the perimeter.  I'll be there.  I can report back to you."

"Fortunately for you, my presence will make a verbal report unnecessary."

"Yeah, but wouldn't you rather just -"

" _No_ , I wouldn't rather," Kandomere said.

For a month after the first bomb went off, Kandomere limited his meetings with the others to phone contact only, wary of drawing attention to their clandestine activities.  The only exceptions were the once-weekly sessions with Ward, and they moved those to a new location.  Every day Kandomere carefully extended his senses, searching his vehicles and residences for danger, looking for malice or foul intent, but there was nothing.  Either the Inferni had no information about his personal identity or (more likely) they lacked the resources or gall to track and attack him directly. 

But eventually the month passed and life had to move forward.  While the task force division went in endless circles chasing enemies that disappeared like smoke, Kandomere found his more covert campaign thriving.  He lost track of how many people their quartet routed and relocated; dozens upon dozens; sometimes whole families, other times individuals.  Some were Brights, but more were sympathizers.  The victories mounted with every day as caution took a back seat to momentum.  The pendulum of their crusade was steadily gaining force and speed.  Eventually it was bound to break away from them.

"Word is spreading," Tikka said one day.  "The Inferni see the reach of our web expanding and know a new player is in the game.  Covens all across the west states have begun to take notice.  So far they've only just begun to make the connection between your role at Magic Task Force and their difficulties, the disappearances.  But eventually those of higher power and position will also hear, and they are more cunning than the Inferni.  It's only a matter of time, now."

"It's only ever been a matter of time," Kandomere said. 

"Man, and I thought I was a pessimist," Ward said.  "You two need to get off my lawn.  I was here first."

"I was here before you were born," Kandomere corrected.

"Oh, come _on_ -"

As wetter seasons brought rain and cooler climate to the city, they succeeded in their riskiest and most rewarding victory yet: a Human Bright, six years of age, and both her parents. 

Kandomere first heard unofficial whispers of the girl's discovery through the San Diego division office.  At first the rumors were only that, but in less than a day rumor became fact.  There'd been a major highway accident with numerous dead, and the girl and her family were among the miraculous few to survive.  Naturally they'd been sent to a hospital for assessment, and detectors on site had gone off almost immediately.  When the entire family was detained, to their confusion, Kandomere knew time was very, very short.  

Success was more a matter of luck than skill; the San Diego division leader had held his position for almost sixty years and he was both arrogant and indolent.  He delayed capturing the Bright until a more convenient hour in the morning, long enough for Kandomere to send Tikka alone to snatch her away, mere hours ahead of a raid that would've seen them all dead.  Ward and Jakoby complained bitterly about being sidelined, but Kandomere ignored them.  Tikka was an Elf; if she were discovered, even if she failed, it would be easy enough to paint her involvement as mere Inferni malice.  It was a cruel fact that if the Inferni _had_ actually been aware of a Human magic user nearby, they would've been eager to capture them before the government could interfere.  Kandomere had never felt more ashamed of his race, nor more satisfied in thwarting them.

The entire family was confused and terrified when they arrived in one of Kandomere's safe houses on the edge of the city.  Tikka had needed to work quickly, and when the parents woke they were sure they'd been kidnapped; in a sense, they had been.  Kandomere dared not show his face for that contact; instead he let Ward take point, watching through a video monitor as Tikka gently explained the situation while the Humans crowded close in disbelieving anger and fear.  Their doubt only wavered after Ward made it rain in the kitchen and it splattered all of them like tears, after Tikka created a flower from thin air, petals and greenery spiraling into a single bloom which she handed to them.  The mother started weeping when the girl exclaimed in childish delight and her magic answered in turn, color bleeding up from her skin in rainbows to fill the world with light.

Kandomere sent the Humans into hiding with Koltya's family, and it was a testament to all involved that the Elves welcomed them with open arms, even the wary grandmother. 

The world was changing.

Tikka came to him afterward, mingled triumph and melancholy like a pall about her.

"What is it?" Kandomere asked, putting away a map he'd been tracking their progress on.  Jakoby sat to one side of him, equally as melancholy; they'd had to keep him well away from the Human family while they'd been relocating.  Orc reputations created unfortunate prejudice and they hadn't wanted to distress the family further, nor draw more attention to themselves.  Ward was sleeping in the other room, coming off the high of their shared victory in the wake of a double work shift.

Tikka tipped her hand to show Kandomere a flower.  It was a reasonable facsimile of the one she'd made for the Human girl, petals in orange and red shining brightly beneath artificial light.  He took it gingerly.

"Orange," Tikka said morosely.  "My favorite.  Flowers bloom when life is strong in Nature.  But I have always preferred the time after the equinox.  Have you ever seen the trees turn in Autumn?"

Nature was sparse in Los Angeles; what few seasonal trees and plants could be found in the city were mostly located in botanical gardens.  This was the first flower Kandomere could remember seeing in recent memory, and certainly the most beautiful.

"I've seen the trees change," he said.  "But not for a very long time."

"No, you haven't," Tikka said.  "And neither have I.  Next year I want to see the seasons turn as they were meant to be seen.  If we bring Ward, he can show us how it should be."

"I'd like that," Kandomere admitted softly.

"We could make it a day trip," Jakoby said, perking up.  "Have you guys ever been to Oregon?  Some great spots there, tons of farm land, all green and lush.  I was talking with some of the Orcs, you know the ones, and they -"

Kandomere let him go on for a time, they both did, the man's chatter filling up the silence, and he knew with fatalistic certainty there was no chance now of disentangling himself from these people, because even Jakoby's rambling had begun to seem normal and soothing.  And there was really no coming back from that.

Eventually hunger quieted them all, and Tikka and Jakoby disappeared into the kitchen to prepare something.  Kandomere took the opportunity to step outside.  The deck was small at this location, on the edge of Mid-Wilshire, but walled to either side for privacy, and high enough up as to be somewhat removed from the endless drone of traffic and people.

Kandomere breathed deeply, sadly no longer bothered by the smog of pollution clouding the air.  He tried to remember how many decades had passed since he last immersed himself in Nature.  Two?  Three?  He thought carefully on Tikka's words as he looked at the city spread out below him and wondered what the trees would look like burnished in the glow of borrowed color, how brightly the greens and browns might sing to his senses and stain his eyes.  Once, Kandomere imagined all Elves had seen as he was now given occasion to see, and few would recognize these days how blindly they walked through the world; they had nothing for comparison.  In reality, there were many who would might cleave to Ward for this alone if the Human deigned to show them even a glimpse of the beauty he had shown Kandomere and Tikka.  Kandomere would have to keep that in mind as an endgame strategy, presuming they survived to the endgame.

As if thoughts of the man had conjured him, Kandomere heard the balcony door slide open and shut and knew who it was without bothering to scent.

"You only slept two hours," Kandomere said, slipping his hands into his pockets.  The wool and cashmere of his suit slid smoothly over his skin, a thin sliver of cool sensation.  "What woke you?"

"Food," Ward said succinctly, with the somnolent burr of a man still struggling toward coherence.  He ambled up to stand next to Kandomere at the balcony railing.

"Did you already eat?  I hadn't thought they'd be done that fast," Kandomere said.

"Still cooking.  You need to stock coffee," Ward said.  "New grocery staple."

"Elves rarely drink it.  We metabolize the caffeine too rapidly to be of any real use."

"Well, Humans need it," Ward said, sounding more alert in the cooler air.  "So suck it up, man."

"Coffee won't help you if you mean to sleep more after this.  If you're having difficulty, I could assist you," Kandomere said, smiling in faint longing.  They met far more often than once a week these days, the four of them, but Ward still came alone to Kandomere on Tuesdays and slept trustingly beneath the Elf's hands.  Lately the intimacy of it had become almost unbearable, and Kandomere knew he wasn't alone in thinking that.

"No," Ward said, but softly, a light flicker of embarrassed pleasure shading him.  "Thanks."

Kandomere bowed his head.  Even that simple acknowledgement was more than what Ward was usually willing to allow when it came to their arrangement.  Jakoby and Tikka had badgered them incessantly about it in the beginning but Ward's temper and Kandomere's silence had finally driven them off some time ago.

"I stock beer," Kandomere said.  "Which is more likely to induce sleep than your coffee.  Go have one of those instead."

"No, I should head out later," Ward said.  "Need to pick up a few things for the weekend.  I've got Sophia.  Traded two double shifts to get the days."

"I'll keep your absence in mind."

"Used to see other guys do the same to see their kids all the time.  Never thought that'd be me, you know?"

"You devotion to your child is admirable," Kandomere said.

"Probably stupid in your eyes, though, right?  Elves ain't about people and all that."  Ward said it matter-of-factly, and there was no bitterness to him, but distaste threaded lightly into his scent.  Kandomere shrugged.  He reached up to undo his collar, loosening his tie to let in a hint of air.  Though it was late evening, the temperature in the city was still comfortably warm for an Elf.

"I have learned that the people matter," Kandomere said, unclipping both cufflinks and slipping them into his pocket.  "Not simply for what they can do, but how they do it.  I have no paternal instincts of my own and I may not understand your love for your daughter, but I understand you, and that she is meaningful to you.   That's enough."

"It's enough to be dangerous to her," Ward said, but quietly, a mere whisper on the air.  Out here in the open even that much of an admission was unwise, but Kandomere couldn't bring himself to shut the Human down.  Ward was rarely willing to speak about this trouble and Kandomere rather thought if he was stopped now he might never begin again.

"She will be well," Kandomere vowed lowly, rashly.  "We will see to it."

"Promise me you'll keep her safe if something ever - just promise."

"I may not be in a position to make assurances, if something should happen," Kandomere said, he hoped gently.  "But if it is in my power, then yes, of course."

"Bree will be there, if - well.  She transferred to a hospital in Anaheim, near Stanton.  We've put the house up for sale; we'll split the proceeds.  Most of it'll go up in bills anyway.  But she'd be there if anything happened."

"Yes, I know.  I have her information.  You needn't worry."

"How the fuck - never mind.  I don't want to know."

"You may have this apartment for your use," Kandomere said.  "It is near enough to your work, and the rent would appear in range of an officer's salary.  It would be a good compromise until you settle elsewhere."

"Dude, do I look like I need a sugar daddy?"

"You look like you need someone to help," Kandomere said, shrugging.  "I am in a position to do so.  There's little enough else that I can do.  I would be pleased to do this, if you allow it."

"I don't want your damn money," Ward said, anger sharp and clear in his scent.  Kandomere bowed his head again, shrugging.  Sometimes he wondered if his continuing missteps with this man were due to his lack of understanding of Human ways - or just of Ward's ways.

"If that's your wish," he said.

"No, that's - okay, look," Ward said, his scent coloring with sudden dogged determination.  "So, I'm bad at this shit, and I mean really bad.  That's obvious, right?  I hate talking about - I just hate talking.  Never been any good at it.  Always more of a show-er than a tell-er, you know?"

"I don't," Kandomere said.

"Fuck.  Just.  I know you know about - when we - man, where's Nick when you need him," Ward interrupted himself, muttering.

"You must know you're not alone in it," Kandomere said, doing him the service of not pretending to misunderstand.  "I've made no secret of my own desires."

"Man, who said we were talking about desires?  You can't just say shit like that."  Kandomere looked at him and Ward glanced away in shame.  "Look, I'm pretty much straight; never looked twice at a guy in my life.  Didn't mean I never saw them.  Didn't mean I never wondered.  But I always wanted to be a cop, and you cannot be a cop in LA and be gay, alright?  I like women just fine, and eventually I met Bree, and she was hot and funny and liked me back, and that was that.  Done deal."

"And then undone," Kandomere said.

"Yeah, and see, there you are, and you're hot and funny - sometimes - and you want to change shit as much as I do.  And you have the same stupid hero complex Nick and T- and our dreamer do, and I never knew that was something I wanted in my life before."

"I am not a hero," Kandomere said, thinking back into the darker years of his life when he'd thought heroism equalled patriotism, and patriotism equalled racial superiority. 

"Join the club, man.  But what I'm saying is - I'm not trying to lead you on or some shit.  I just.  One day.  Maybe."

Kandomere blinked, glanced over at him.  Ward looked fiercely uncomfortable, and his eyes darted everywhere but back at the Elf.

"Shit," Ward said.  "Now I'm the one who made it gay."

"I require no promises from you," Kandomere said.  Even the thought of it was - he could feel the tips of his ears flush with heat, eyes dilating as yellow and green patterned over his sight and disappeared into afterimages like winking stars.  "I'm not sure any of us are in a position to make or keep promises, in any case."

"Right," Ward said.  "Well, glad we cleared that up.  So I guess we'll just - catch up after the weekend?"

The thought of meeting for their usual furtive evening with this new, unexpected door open on their agreement was both dreadful and impossibly thrilling.  Humans were so unpredictable; a mass of expanding contradictions and impulses in contrast to an Elf's more single-minded, predatory focus.  Kandomere could only imagine what next week might be like, Ward's power a flame crackling between them and thoughts of 'one day, maybe' in both their minds.

"Tuesday," Kandomere agreed, as evenly as he could.  "I may be late, that day.  I have a bi-annual case review with my junior agents."

"Right, more of your baby task force agents," Ward said.  "How's it going on that end?"

"I have yet to convince the office I'm capable of looking after myself."

"Probably because they know you're shit at it," Ward said.

"I believe there's an expression for this occasion; something about a kettle and a pot."

"It's the pot calling the kettle black, and fuck that shit.  I'm great at keeping myself alive.  Ask anybody."

"I've asked everyone of mutual acquaintance, and neither of them agree with you."

"Yeah, but those two are bad examples," Ward said.  "Neither of them have any survival instincts to speak of, which explains why they even talk to us.  Hell, if this group had a name, it'd be Shitty Life Choices."

"It does seem to be a running theme."

"Speaking of shit choices," Ward said.  "Ti - our dreamer has some thoughts about my next steps, like where I can find a more advanced teacher.  Apparently she's got friends in, uh, well-lit places who might help."

Kandomere breathed a laugh, thinking of the last member of the Shield of Light he'd had the pleasure of interviewing.  After he and Montehugh had finished interrogating Seller they'd not bothered to hold him; the man was a minor player if he was anything, and of little further use.  He'd been charged with disturbing the peace, fined, and released on his own recognizance.  Of course he'd vanished into the bowels of the city moments after walking out the door and had never been heard from again. 

"Well, we do know where they're located these days," Kandomere mused.  "It may be time to make contact."

"Yeah," Ward said.

They stood in comfortable silence for a time, both of them lost to thought, listening to the faint sounds of the city around them.  Kandomere was content to exist in the moment, and thought Ward might be as well.  The Human was more insular than some of his kind, with few social interactions and now with the added layer of a fracture in his family.  And for all the Human was truly fond of his Orc partner - even if the only way to tell was to scent it from him - he often seemed relieved to be away from the endless babble.  Kandomere was happy enough to provide him a refuge of quiet and peace. 

Eventually the balcony door behind them opened in a sudden rush of warm air and light and the delicious scent of cooked meat.

"Hey," Jakoby said, poking his head out through the curtains.  "What gives?  You two doing the nasty out here or what?"

"Doing the _nasty_?" Ward said.  "Seriously?" 

Kandomere mouthed it silently, puzzled.  He'd become more familiar with idioms as time went on but this one was new.  Doing the nasty?  Was that some Orc expression to ask if they'd been fighting?  What a strange notion.

"Well, maybe if you two'd just get it out of your system -"

Ward swore at him and shoved him back inside, following moments later.  Kandomere heard him greet Tikka, heard her indistinct response, and breathed deep the faint touch of their mingled scent, the unseen tendrils binding the three of them.  The four of them, really.  Kandomere may be on the outside, literally and figuratively, he might not have been one of them from the beginning.  But the four of them had started to revolve slowly around each other, learning the secret ways in which they might communicate, developing the odd quirks and inside jokes and language of people who grew to know one another in intimate and extremely awkward ways.

Jakoby and Tikka both called them a family.  Kandomere had begun to wonder if they might be right.

He stepped back across the balcony threshold, squinting into the light.

"Brother," Tikka said, smiling, and this time the word did not burn him like an open wound.  He wondered how she'd known, but then, it was Tikka; she always knew.  "There you are."

"Here I am," Kandomere agreed, and shut the door behind him.


	10. Chapter 10

It was a quiet Monday afternoon, humid and balmy by Elf standards, miserable and wet by Human standards, when everything changed.  That was the day Kandomere realized he'd started to believe in his own conceit, that even in the midst of growing mortal danger he'd become complacent.  If he'd been thinking, even marginally, he would have guarded himself better, would have had more contingency plans.  But he wasn't, and he didn't.

They were summoned to Los Angeles International Airport, and the caller this time made no pretense of hiding behind subtle deceit.  The dispatcher brought the recording to Kandomere directly, offering it to him with grim, steady hands.

"There's a magic user at the airport," a male voice said, simply, smugly, when Kandomere listened to it with Montehugh beside him.  "You have an hour to find them, Kandomere, before things go very wrong for you.  Best hurry.  Plenty of places to hide in there."

Kandomere barely waited for the message to click into silence before he strode briskly from the office, Montehugh trailing behind him.

"You can't go," Montehugh said, ignoring the line of agents quickly forming in their wake.  "They're not even pretending it's not about you anymore.  It can't be a bomb, not in the airport.  It'll be a sniper if it's anything."

"Which is why I'll avoid giving them a direct line of sight," Kandomere said.

"In LAX?  That place is massive.  How are we supposed to find someone in there?  Assuming there's even anyone to find.  They could be anywhere."

"No, they couldn't," Kandomere said.  "Not a magic user."

"What?  But - oh!  Oh, the fucking detectors.  Why the hell would they set a trap there?  They had to know about them."

"Of course they know," Kandomere said.  "They're using the detector net to drive us like prey.  They'll have setup an ambush in one of the accessible areas."

"Remind me again why you're going," Montehugh said.

"Because I'm the division lead," Kandomere said.  "And I outrank you."

When they arrived at the airport, Kandomere discovered their security forces had gotten there first.  He glared at Montehugh, who looked resolutely away.

"This won't be like the last times," Kandomere told him.  "They'll want to single me out.  Having a crowd on hand makes that harder."

"Good," Montehugh said.

"Not good.  The point is to give them enough of what they want that they'll come into the open," Kandomere said, and unlocked his car door.  It thunked into a solid object before he could lever himself out.  He glanced up into the face of one of his senior agents, who looked back with exaggerated surprise.

"Oh, sorry sir," the man said through the open window, casually not moving from his obstructive position.  "Couldn't catch you before you left the office.  We have some gear for you to put on."

"I have no intention of wearing bullet proof armor," Kandomere said.

"Yeah, over here," the man called, and seconds later a woman with grim features holding a heavy vest and helmet ambled up to the car.

"We also have a ballistic shield for you, sir," the unidentified security officer said while she shoved the offending items at Kandomere.

"I am _not_ using a ballistic shield," Kandomere said sharply, accepting the vest and helmet with poor grace.

"Then maybe just the armor, boss?" Montehugh said cajolingly, and Kandomere scowled at him and put them on.

"Where do we start?" the Human asked while they stood on the tarmac.  "Dispatch alerted the airport officials, but it'll be a while before they supply the schematics for the detectors.  Apparently that's proprietary information."

"I'm familiar with the detector net," Kandomere said, already moving off.  Security hastily fell into step around him and he tried not to be annoyed at the protective formation they took on either side of him.

"What, for the whole airport?"

"Of course.  I helped design it," Kandomere said.  The better to know where the loopholes were.  The better to know where people could hide in plain sight.  "Even if there isn't a magic user, the fact they told us there is means they've already narrowed the area of attack to those few places one could go.  We'll start with Lot C."

"Right out in the open," Montehugh said.  "Fantastic.  You want to tell the other teams where to start looking?"

"No," Kandomere said.  He wouldn't have told them even if the information weren't classified.  He had no intention of letting any teams encounter the Inferni without him.

But they didn't find anything in Lot C.  In fact, it took checking four of the accessible locations before -

"Wait," Kandomere said, and all around him security and division agents froze into immobility.  He could scent their determination and their trust in him, their strange and entertaining belief that Kandomere had somehow developed mythical powers of perception and insight.  Apparently his reputation had been spreading since that first Inferni bomb went off.  And they were more right than they knew, but it wasn't perception; it was only magic.

Kandomere breathed deeply, trying to sort through the myriad smells and impressions of the world around him, drenched in a smog of living detritus.  This was a less crowded part of the airport, but crowded enough to make wider scent difficult.  And yet.  There was _something_ ; something odd and strong and nauseatingly sweet.   He sent out a tendril of careful magic, searching, and -

There.  To the left.  And moving away.

Kandomere slipped into a narrow gap of elbows between two security agents and was off and running before the rest of them had quite realized what was happening.  He pulled ahead, even as Montehugh shouted a warning, even as the agents fanned out behind him and many found themselves caught amongst the crowd, milling in angry confusion.  But Kandomere did not wait.  If the Inferni had drawn him here to be caught, then let them catch him.  He would not be hunted like an animal anymore.

The Inferni member stood out as if she'd been painted in black on a background of white; to his senses she practically glowed with a weight of foul, soiled intent.  And he must have stood out to her as well; she saw him coming, and ran.  He followed, incensed.  He couldn't say how long he chased her; long enough his body ached from the hard misuse, long enough to send people scattering from his path in confused panic and to lose more than half the agents behind him.  Long enough for ancient instincts to writhe out of his control, salivating at the thought of finally catching the quarry that should always have been his, should never have caused him even a moments concern. 

Somewhere in the fog of unnatural fury he knew something wasn't right; her grip on him was greater than it should've been, wretchedly tantalizing and poisonous.  But the larger part of Kandomere was lost to a haze of sticky impulse, the blood-sweet thrill of a chase.

Eventually they arrived at a junction.  The woman paused ten feet away from one of the doors leading outside, and turned.  Kandomere could see the vague features of her face, narrow and pale the way all Elves were. 

He slowed to a more leisurely pace, because the woman had nowhere to go and she must know it; that door, like nearly all the exits, was framed with a magic detector.  Far behind him Kandomere could hear the ragged pant of his agents struggling to catch up, still one corridor away, but drawing nearer.  He was close enough now to see her eyes, her mouth.  She was smiling.

She stepped right up to the door and then put one hand up and pushed it open.  Kandomere expected the whole apparatus to light up red, just as it was supposed to.  He expected to hear the piercing wail of a warning siren, expected the airport to close up tight in lockdown.  But it didn't.  She slipped through the door unimpeded, let it close behind her, and stopped on the other side.  She was still smiling.

Kandomere didn't think; it he had, he would never have followed her outside, where he truly would be at the mercy of a sniper rifle.  But instinct was a hard beast to master, harder than normal.  The predator in him was howling at his escaping prey.  If she'd walked through that door then she could have no magic to protect herself with; she'd have no chance against him.  When she ran again, he gave chase. 

And two steps away from the door, the magic inside him screamed a terrible warning and wiped out the blind of the woman's synthetic pheromones a half-second ahead of the magic detector.  Kandomere felt the angry malice of it mere inches in front of his face, close enough the interface had perked up like a dog scenting a nearby quarry. On the other side of the door the woman kept running, vanishing around a corner without looking back, probably in fear for her life.  A wise worry.

Kandomere stood very still, rocking his weight slowly back on his heels so as not to trip unexpectedly forward and into the grasp of the trap.  One more step would have been enough to put him in its reach.  Two more would have lit the whole thing up in blood red warning; would have revealed him to the agents fanning out behind him, would have ended all deception and put him at the mercy of the very organization he worked for, and secretly worked against.

In the clarity following the drunken weight of her contaminated scent, Kandomere had the breathless sensation of having narrowly escaped death.  But not by a bomb this time.  This was the Inferni equivalent to a sniper rifle; because they'd known the magic would give him away.

The Inferni _knew_.

"I'm going -" Montehugh panted hoarsely from behind him, "- to tie you to a chair - at the office - and never let you out."

"That wouldn't hold me," Kandomere said, and took three deliberate steps back until he could no longer feel the threat of the detector lying like a noose against his skin.

"It will if someone sits on you," Montehugh gasped out.

Kandomere waved a group of agents ahead of him and through the door.  "After her," he said, knowing they'd likely never catch her or that if they did she wouldn't be able to tell them anything.  She was a decoy.  The Inferni would have chosen her only because they could seed her scent with poison meant for Kandomere, and she had no magic and could run through the airport with impunity, whereas apparently he could not.

One part of Kandomere was shamed not to have anticipated this, but he'd never had to guard himself against detectors before.  His latent magical affinity had always been too weak to set them off.  But that was before Ward; before the Human's power had brimmed to overflowing inside him.  He'd never paused to consider what that might mean in the outside world, in the places where Ward must always be cautious, and where now Kandomere must as well.

He was lucky they hadn't chosen one of the more densely trafficked gate terminals; magic detectors were everywhere in there.  But then, she would've had more difficulty drawing on his instincts with a hunt like that in a more heavily populated part of the airport.  They'd been relying on the lengthier chase and exposure, on the pheromones to overcome his common sense.  And they nearly had.  The Inferni were meticulous in their planning.

He should thank them for this, really.  If they hadn't shown him he was vulnerable to it he might never have known to be cautious.  The Inferni might have ultimately saved his life.

He wondered how much telling them that would anger them.  Then blamed his perverse delight at this prospect on Ward. 

"Does this door have a detector?" Montehugh asked, still catching his breath while agents and security streamed around them, creating another perimeter.  Half of them had disappeared to search for the woman.

"Yes," Kandomere said.

"Caller said they had a magic user here, but the woman had to be clean or she'd've set the whole thing off.  She's got to be mundane."

But the caller hadn't quite been wrong.  There was a magic user here; it just wasn't the Inferni decoy.

"If they just wanted to get you outside they could've had you in the parking lot," Montehugh said, clearly thinking out loud.  "Maybe we should check the roofs.  They might've had someone setup out there."

"Possibly," Kandomere said, even though it wasn't.  "Look into it."

Montehugh ambled off, barking instructions into one of the radios.  More of the agents dispersed to follow orders. 

Kandomere turned to look at the emergency exit out of the corner of his eye, feeling his heart pound at the reminder of how close he'd come to literally tripping over his most closely guarded secrets for all his agents to see.  That had been very, very close.

"Need to talk to you," Montehugh said a few minutes later, and there was a grimness to his voice that immediately caught Kandomere's attention.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Not here," Montehugh said, then looked around, gesturing to one of the staffed information booths nearby.  After a quick search for directions, Kandomere found himself tucked into an uncomfortably closed room with four walls and a desk and little else.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"Maintenance room, I think," Montehugh said.  "Doesn't matter."  And he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a familiar device, an innocuous gray cylinder.  He set it on the desk and turned it on.

Kandomere knew it would be bad, then.  He wasn't sure where Montehugh had acquired a jammer, but the use of one here was illegal at best, and given both their relative positions in government, treasonous at worst.

"No way we can have that on for long," Montehugh said, leaning forward.  "So I'll keep it on track.  Any idea yet why the Inferni have it out for you?"

"I'm a division lead for the Magic Task Force," Kandomere said, all his senses on high alert.  "That would seem to be reason enough."

He scented the air, but Montehugh was a total blank except for the mundane scent of sweat and faint cologne.  In fact, he was so blank Kandomere suspected some artificial interference.  That was very interesting, as the man had never bothered with a scent screen before, and he was one of the few Humans who knew what scent could give away to an Elf.  Kandomere would never have suspected Montehugh of working against him, but the timing and circumstances seemed suspicious and their relocation to this room suddenly took on a strangely ominous cast.  If the man were about to try something, however, he wouldn't be able to do it alone.  One Human could not take down an Elf without considerable help or firepower.

"I don't think that's all it is," Montehugh said, and seemed oblivious to the sharp attention Kandomere was giving him, which perhaps he was.  Montehugh had always been a bit dense, overall; efficient at barking orders, certainly, a competent enough investigator if the facts were presented bare and straightforward, but there was no subtlety to the man, no guile.

They'd worked together for almost seven years now; surely Kandomere would have noticed if all of that was an act?

"What then?" Kandomere asked.

"I don't know," Montehugh replied. "But does it have anything to do with you and Daryl Ward?"

Kandomere went for his weapon and had it pointing at the Human before he'd quite realized he intended to do so.  Montehugh didn't move, though Kandomere could see him blink in surprise.

"No need to get jumpy," Montehugh said.  "You and Ward meet like every other week or something.  There any reason he might be connected to the Inferni?  Aside from that whole thing last year, I mean.  Is he one of your contacts with the local police?  I'm not going to tell anyone.   I just got to know."

"How?" Kandomere asked, mind racing, calculating all the possibilities.  Montehugh could be working for the division Director, keeping tabs.  Kandomere knew he'd made no friends for himself when he took this position, ex-enforcer that he was, and it made sense to have a second in command keeping an eye on him.  But Montehugh was Human, with no hint of any connections to other races.  Kandomere had looked into that very thoroughly when he'd selected the man as second.  Perhaps the Human had hidden -

"I followed you for two weeks after that first bomb nearly caught us at the Inferni cell," Montehugh said.  "Thought they might try something again, after hours.  So I staked you out and would you believe it; one day I saw a familiar face heading into the same building as you and not coming out until the morning.  Now, don't get me wrong; I'm not one to judge.  But isn't the guy married?"

"He was," Kandomere said automatically, lowering his weapon.  "The divorce is pending."

"Jesus, boss," Montehugh said. "Really?  I mean, I never even knew you went for guys, let alone Humans.  Always thought we were a bit beneath you.  Though, I mean, maybe that's still true, what do I know about Elves and how they get their kicks -"

"You invaded my privacy," Kandomere said, unnerved, all his thoughts and machinations in total disarray.  When Kandomere had watched, stretching out all his senses to detect danger, he'd always looked for malice; he'd never expected to be surveilled by a friend.  In fact, he'd actively ignored it.  Tikka surveilled each of them all too often, an annoying habit of hers, but well meant.  Clearly Kandomere hadn't considered how vulnerable this could make them to friendly fire.

He mechanically put his weapon away without much thought, vaguely making a mental note that Montehugh had no sense of self-preservation.  The Human seemed completely undisturbed by Kandomere's reaction.  Though perhaps this was not so unusual a response from an Elf whose territory had been violated.  They were known to be rather protective of such things. 

"Not going to apologize for it," Montehugh said.  "Thought you might be in danger.  Still do.  But why Daryl Ward?  I mean, of all the guys in all the gin joints, some nobody cop from the LAPD who got his ass kicked by a Bright and rides with an Orc?  How does that even compute."

"There is more to W- Daryl than you might imagine," he said, stumbling over the name; Ward had always simply been Ward, to Kandomere.  For Elves, who had only one name, the first one known was often the one that lingered.  But if Montehugh was willing to dismiss his association with Ward as mere romantic dalliance, Kandomere would be relieved to feed into the fiction.  Better that than the truth, which would be infinitely more damning.  They were blindingly lucky the man hadn't surveilled them for longer and witnessed a more incriminating meeting with Tikka and Jakoby; Kandomere could've had no explanation for that.

"Well, I guess there'd have to be," Montehugh said.

"He is - kind," Kandomere said, spinning desperately back through his thoughts, looking for the things which he'd always known attracted him to the Human, even from the start, that first time they'd sat down together in the division building more than a year ago and planned -

"He is brave," Kandomere said, thinking of how Jakoby, always better with words, might describe the Human.  "He is true.  We share common goals, common insights.  He hates my humor, but would hate it more if I stopped using it.  I can as easily speak with him as stand in silence.  I am better standing with him than I would be alone."

There was more he could say, that he might speak of: the passion Ward inspired in him, the hunger, the freedom in sharing the magic between them, the misfit family they had made.  The patina of color in his life Kandomere soaked in and yearned for every time they parted, how he felt more at ease with himself than he had for decades, centuries -

But all those things he should say first to Ward, and he had said enough to satisfy Montehugh, in any case.

"Right," the Human said, looking deeply uncomfortable, squirming.  "So, I mean, I'm not saying the Inferni have anything to do with you and Ward, particularly.  Probably.  But maybe we shouldn't discount the possibility altogether."

"Why?" Kandomere asked.

"Because while you were chasing the roadrunner through LAX, the office got word of some weird fucking magic tornado in Mid-City," Montehugh said grimly.  "The power grid in that whole area's been wiped.  Teams one and five went out, and four responders were sent from the local PD.  Ward and Jakoby were two of them; first to arrive.  And now they're missing, and there're three dead, and no one can remember jack shit about anything, not even the ones on scene."

What happened after that was - indistinct.  Kandomere could recall barking orders at Montehugh, at the many junior agents still milling about the airport; at the administration staff, the security officers.  He remembered two separate phone conversations with Ward's precinct captain (very unwise), and one with the fire department.  He distinctly remembered the feeling of impotent rage that hazed over most of the day, and the unwanted sympathy he garnered from Montehugh who was closer than most in understanding why Kandomere was acting the way he was acting.  The way he needed to stop acting before he set off any unsavory warning bells in high places where they certainly could not afford to have any ringing.

By the time he'd managed to roll the fury of his instincts back into the hidden places where he kept them, he found himself walking swiftly through a very dubious part of the city.  The night sky above him was smudged with clouds and the distant glimmer of stars.  Those few people he passed scurried by silently, no more eager to be near him that he was to be near them.

At least he'd had the wherewithal to recognize he was being followed, this time, and had the grim satisfaction of knowing his agents were very, very well trained.  If he hadn't been looking for them, he would never have seen them.  Kandomere took the time to lose Montehugh and the rest of his tail before he abandoned his vehicle.  He went through Elftown, where he knew the hidden routes best, and cut in and out of the alleys there until there was no further sign of pursuit.  Once he was sure he'd fooled them he circled back downtown and parked in the shadow of a derelict bridge so he could walk the remaining six blocks.  He left his jacket and vest behind, tucked his hair and ears into a hat, and kept his eyes cautiously away from the light.  Eventually his steps took him to a small dwelling, practically a shack, in a very poor part of town. 

Tikka's house.

Tikka had explained to them, once, her decision to live on the outskirts among destitute Humans and Dwarves and hardened Orcs.  She didn't dare hide in Elftown, where underprivileged neighborhoods were rare and the chances of someone scenting her or her magic would have been immeasurably high.  She was conspicuous living as a lone Elf among wolves, but in the anonymous streets of Los Angeles the only real authority was might.  And in the realm of might, Elves had many, many advantages.  For the most part, people left Tikka very much alone.

Kandomere watched her house for a long time, the shabby exterior of it blending perfectly into a background of graffiti and ruin.  Eventually he approached with caution.  If Elves were territorial, Elf Brights were even more so, and traditionally he would never come into one's land without a friendly escort or some incredible firepower.  That he was here now, at all, was a major breach. 

But Ward and Jakoby were missing, and neither were answering their phones, nor responding to any of their known backups for communication.  Tikka had always been off the grid, and she was the only chance he had for information.  There was no one else.

Kandomere knocked on the door cautiously, quietly, once and then again, but there was no answer.  He put a hand on the door handle, ready to draw away if needed.  Brights had been known to put extremely nasty wards in place to dissuade intruders.

But there was nothing.  Not even a whisper of power.  Which told Kandomere one of three things: either her protective spells were good enough to escape his detection (possible), or she didn't spell her home against invasion (foolish), or someone had broken the wards before he'd come.  It might have been Tikka; in a rush, she might have forgotten to reset them.  But any reasons requiring a rush that urgent would've been universally awful.  No matter how he looked at it, this was a very disquieting thing.

He pushed open the door, relying on simple force to break the lock; it didn't take much.  He thought he might find carnage, clear chaos, debris or some other sign of a struggle.  But once he turned on the light, dim and wavering, nothing seemed out of place.  In fact, quite the opposite; everything was very orderly, neat and clean, all things in order. 

It was a solid single room home, the bedroom and bathroom and kitchen and small sitting space all one large square petitioned off into sections.  He walked guardedly into each of the areas, searching, and retreated a few minutes later to the centre of the room to scent.  He worried he might find a shroud, and there was a hint of _something_ , but Tikka's presence, her belongings, all these things he could smell.  Even the last thing she'd felt and done was clear to him as he stood there.  She'd been content, reading in the chair just behind him, thinking of one of her companions; he thought perhaps Ward - the flavor of the Human was in her mind as she took her notes and wondered about something Kandomere couldn't quite grasp.

Kandomere looked around him, frowning, completely at a loss.  He went to close the front door as best he could and came back to the center of the room.  He looked around for whatever Tikka might have been reading, but it was no longer present, and nothing else stood out as being even remotely out of the ordinary.  But then, what would count as being out of the ordinary in Tikka's home?  Kandomere doubted he truly knew the answer to that.

For the most part, though he and Tikka had come to an unspoken agreement and the tension between them had settled, she continued to be the one among them Kandomere had the most difficulty acclimating to.  The Orc was simple, easily satisfied with the most basic things in life, and Ward was - Ward.  Kandomere had come slowly to the idea of the four of them together as something more than just individuals.  A unit; companions; family.  And Tikka as perhaps one day a sister.  But that did not mean he understood her or could read her secrets in the silence of her home.  Not at all.

Kandomere could feel a sort of despair trying to creep over him and firmly pushed it away.  He'd had quite enough emotionalism today - surely Ward's influence - and now he needed to apply strategy in place of blind sentiment.  He sat down on the chair, meaning to settle and gather his thoughts. 

And was caught by the web there, which snared him instantly in a moment of surprise and vanished him away into screaming agony.

 _"No!"_ he could hear dimly, a small feminine shout, as blood boiled in his veins and lightning arched through his spine.  _"It's too soon!  We're not ready!"_

 _"Tikka, what's happening?"_ And that was Jakoby, some distant part of Kandomere realized.  But how?  They were not here; even through the blackness threatening to dissolve him from the inside, he could tell there was no one else in the room with him.  He heard their voices only in his head.

Had he gone mad?  His whole body was trying to move and failing, caught in hellfire; the pain was blinding, soul-destroying.  Was his imagination seeking a refuge to save him from it?

_"Kandomere, brother, you must resist it.  They laced the trap for me, not you; the misalignment will try to tear you apart.  You must stay awake at all costs.  If you give into it, if you sleep, you will be lost within the dream, and I will never be able to find you."_

_"Tikka, what the fuck is going on?"_

Ward.  Kandomere latched on to the sound of his voice, a welcome oasis in an inferno, in a desert of baking heat from which there was no escape.  He could hear their voices speaking rapidly to each other as the pain tried to unmake him, but he could not make out their words as they shouted.  Ward was alive.  They all were.  Kandomere had been caught in a trap while the other three were safe, far away.  Someone had set a trap meant to strip Tikka from herself and deliver her into malicious hands.  It was only that he'd gotten in the way.

 _"Kandomere,"_ and that was Ward, again, Ward.  He must remind himself he could not unravel the way his body demanded he do, not fall screaming into darkness because if he did he would never come out of it.  _"Kandomere?  Stay with me, man.  Please.  Whatever's happening, hang in there.  We're coming."_

_"Ward, we can't go yet.  The pool.  We need to -"_

_"Tikka, you stay if you have to - Nick, you stay with her - but I'm fucking leaving right fucking now.  Send me back right now!"_

Kandomere was being broken apart piece by piece, imagined he could feel each of his many hundreds of years dissolving, memories dropping into an ocean to be borne away on a rising tide.

The edges of his vision had gone very dark, the world a sickening cloud of polluted color.  But he saw through the encroaching dimness the door opening ponderously, the step of a figure into the light, and for a moment he could feel his wounded thoughts try to leap in hope.  Ward?

But no.  The figure was too tall, too lithe; white hair, white skin.  An Elf.  A familiar Elf.

He tried to say something, felt his teeth clamp down in a spasm against his lip, the taste of blood heavy on his tongue.

"Oh," Leilah said, and smiled a predator's sort of smile. "It's you."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Caution: violence and mild gore in this chapter. Nothing beyond what we saw in the show, I think, but fair warning nonetheless.

Kandomere could not speak; every time he tried the raw roughness of a scream broke behind his teeth like waves on a cliff.  He swallowed it down so as not to give her the satisfaction.

Leilah.  But it could not be Leilah.  She was dead, Ward had killed her; he could not but take the Human's word for that; Jakoby and Tikka, all agreed.

It could not be Leilah, and yet it was Leilah.  How?

 _"Brother,"_ she said, and the Övüsi drew across his skin like razor wire.  She looked so very real, the white of her eyes, her height, everything about her just as he had remembered, just as he had seen in pictures for twenty long years.

"You're not supposed to be here," she said, taking some pity perhaps, the words flowing out in English.  "We expected our sister.  The trap at the airport should have snared you; would have, were you less a master of your own instincts."

She looked around the small hovel, then returned her reptilian eyes to him.  She leaned close to smile with bright, gleaming teeth that shimmered in an uneven film of light. 

"I opposed that plan," she said, almost merrily.  "Wasteful.  What if we could not capture Tikka?  Then who would give us your secrets?  And now: you've proven my words.  She is not here.  There is only you."

She laughed, soft and low, and stared at him in endless amusement.

"The first time we saw you use magic," she confided, low, as though they shared in a great secret.  "Many of us thought the dream a false one.  You are known, Kandomere, as all the old ones are, and you have never been a Bright.  And yet I see you here and your scent betrays you."

She breathed deeply, a needle of magic and instinct looking for a way inside his skin, but she needn't have bothered.  The web had sunk deep and locked everything in Kandomere into swirling chaos; right now, the only thing to scent was agony.

"When you escaped the first bomb, I knew," she said.  "But others doubted.  Forewarning might have freed you as easily as magic.  But then you evaded the second and the third.  And now this."

She circled leisurely around him, leaning over his shoulder from behind to draw hair gently behind a vulnerable ear.

"How did you do it, brother?" she asked, bleeding him with her voice.  "How have you acquired what Nature denied you?  We thought to draw the truth from Tikka, but she's gone far from here." 

If he could have spit at her, he would have, but he couldn't part his teeth to try, and words were but a distant memory.  He could barely breathe for lack of air. 

"Oh," she whispered, delighted.  "Are you surprised?  We've seen our sister with you, traitor that she is.  She tried to shade you from the dream, but no one can hide forever.  What is she to you?  A teacher, a student?" She touched him, one finger drawing backward down his cheek like a brand, magic prickling with shrieking wrongness over him.  It could not have hurt more if she'd simply stabbed him.  "A lover?"

Compulsion thickened her voice to honeyed sweetness, ugly passion and sex crawling to the forefront of his mind as she'd intended.  He tried not to think it, tried to give her nothing, but Ward was the only shield he had, the only light in a ravage of darkness, and the memory of him and of Kandomere's desire for him was bright and desperate.  She gasped, fingers digging like talons into his face.

"That's not Tikka.  Who is that?" she demanded, and he felt her invasion, the afterimage of her trying to peer behind his eyes.  He could see the unnatural glow of her behind and beside him, the dimensions of her form shimmering as concentration waned with shock.

 _"A Human?  You dare!"_ the Elf said, and her voice was wrong too, the light flavor of it deepening into baritone cruelty.  But the Övüsi was very real and it was flaying him alive.  _"You broke the silence.  You broke the covenant.  I wonder what your vile Director would think if she knew.  Should I leave you for her, brother?  I think she would kill you more slowly than I."_

She would, of course.  Elves had worked long to secure their legacy; they would never let it break apart without retribution.  Kandomere had always known that.  He just hadn't considered how painfully he'd be punished for it before they allowed him to die.

"Who is he?" the Elf asked, and terror struck Kandomere harder than the pain, a tremor working up his spine until he heard something snap and numbness followed.  She laughed, harsh and empty, and circled around so she faced him again, a contemptuous look on the wavering mask of her face.  "I can feel him in the marrow of your soul like rot.  You've betrayed all of us, Kandomere.  I see you for what you are.  Heretic."

I see you, too, he wanted to tell her.  I see you truly, imposter; false, fake.  It was not Leilah, of course it was not Leilah.  The touch of her hands would have been enough, even if the ill-fitting disguise hadn't been decaying in front of him, the skinless mask cracking to its foundation.  Any Elf could play at arrogance; it was what Elves _were_.  But this pretender was woefully inadequate, their construct shifting out of shape at the first slip of control.  Ward could have done better, and he didn't even know how.

Kandomere wanted to laugh, wanted to share how amateurish their efforts were, tell them they could not fool him.  But he could feel his heart, resilient as all Elf hearts were, beginning to falter in its rhythm, the pain driving deeply into his centre.  He'd broken six fingers clenching them in useless spasms on the chair and his back teeth were ground and shattered to nothing.  It would not be long before the exertion of the trap killed him and spared him from any further wounding questions.

 _"Ah,"_ the Elf said, the crack of a bloodied whip, and he whited out for one terrifying moment, thought it might all be over.  _"I see you are no longer fooled.  No matter.  We meant this face for our sister, not you, but it's as good as any that one might see at the end of seeing all things."_

The Elf leaned close.  _"I have dallied and must now be quick.  I never wanted to kill you, brother, but you know too much.  But don't mourn, Kandomere.  You'll have company soon.  This Human, your ally, he won't live long in the world.  I know what to look for now, in the dream; we'll recognize the flavor of him from you.  Only time stands between us."_

There was a knife in its hand, this simulacrum, and he thought with some relief of Larika, released at last from her prison as Leilah slipped a knife into her throat and freed her from pain.  Kandomere longed to be free from his pain.

But that freedom would not come here, not at the hands of this thing.  He knew something this false golem did not.  He could scent it in the air, even through the fog, even through the pain.  He would know this scent anywhere.  He smiled, imagining it was a ghastly rictus of a thing.

"What?" The Leilah-thing asked, pulling back, a hint of uncertainty shadowing its borrowed features.  "What are you smiling at?"

Kandomere did not stop smiling as a shadow stepped through the open door, a ripple of fire in one hand and a shield of moonlight in the other.  The wand was a brilliant shining star as it was brought to bear against this Leilah-pretender, who shrieked and clawed and flew through the air, igniting into death with a wailing scream as Kandomere watched.

He wished he could appreciate more the victory of the imposter's demise, but that wouldn't be possible.  Life was slipping away from Kandomere like sand through an hourglass, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

"Oh shit," Ward said, crouching low, reaching for him with hands cool like water and warm like daylight.  "Oh fucking hell.  What's happening?  What do I do?  Kandomere?"

You have already done it, Kandomere wanted to tell him, but the world was going gray, very gray, all the color fading away, his heart finally starting to stutter out of rhythm with its frantic pace.

"No!" Ward said and grabbed him, tried to draw him away from the spell-web on the chair, the stickiness of it holding him fast even now.  "Stay with me, man.  How do I get you out?  You got to tell me."

Kandomere thought he would die, then, the spark inside him withering away before Ward's horrified eyes, but -

The magic, Ward's magic, fluttered to life inside him, drawing up and through their contact in a sluggish, familiar way.  It had lain quiet and dead inside him while the trap kept his thoughts captive, but with Ward near it stirred to life, trying to escape into the contact of the Human's hands.

Ward felt it, and he had a moment to appreciate seeing the man's eyes widen in sudden understanding, then narrow in fierce concentration.  Ward had always had such excellent instincts, really, they were his very best quality -

Then Kandomere's whole world lit up like the sun had come to sleep inside him.

Not pain, not at all.  Not pleasure, either, though nearer to that than to anything.  Life, vitality, matter and energy on a level an Elf's body was not meant to hold.  In a moment he understood everything there was to know, saw the vast expanse of the world open to him and in his grasp for the reaching.  But the next second it had dissolved away, rushing busily through his body to repair the damage left behind.  And there had been damage; enough to kill him; enough to kill him rather quickly, actually, arteries and veins bursting from the pressure, his organs failing and now kindled back into life.  All this was swept away as the magic flowed continuously between them, Ward feeding more and more of it into him until the web melted into smoke beneath his power, until the entire room seemed lit with it.

No, the entire room truly _was_ lit with it, the blaze of the Human's magic running over the ceiling and the walls, the floor, settling into the seams and pooling to drip and soak into Kandomere like rain.  Now that his mind was working on more than basic commands, Kandomere immediately thought of the outside world, looking in, the other Elves who might be lying in wait outside, the danger -

"There's no one," Ward said.  "I got two of them on the way in.  Had a bitch of a time with it; couldn't be too loud.  Didn't want what's-his-face there to hear me coming."

Kandomere blinked, looking away at where the other Elf had been thrown into the wall, but there was nothing, not even a body.  No evidence someone had been there at all.  He looked back at Ward.

"Uh," Ward said.  "Yeah.  I think I kind of blew him up.  Disintegrated him?  Somehow.  Not sure.  Anyway, ain't no one around for miles.  I can sense people, now, or something, I don't even fucking know, man.  Let me get the door."

Ward stood up and went and shut the door, and all the while the light of his magic spiralled through the room, touching on all things, including the chair where Kandomere sat, which no longer held him prisoner.  He leaned forward, meaning to stand, and promptly fell over.

"Hey!"  Ward was back, helping him sit up, wobbling against the wall.  "Are you fucking for real?  I wasn't even gone like a minute."

"Yes," Kandomere said.  He cleared his throat, momentarily confused that the rawness from before was gone.  His body felt light and healthy but his mind was yet to be convinced he wasn't dying in untold agony in that rather comfortable chair.  "I couldn't sit there.  Any longer."

"Oh," Ward said.  "Right."

"I apologize," Kandomere said, the words grating at him.  "I would not have thought - well.  I hadn't considered I might be a weakness for you.  My arrogance nearly cost us all, dearly.  If they had left here, knowing who you were -"

"Yeah, don't expect me to let you live this down anytime soon," Ward said.  "But actually.  This is kind of my fault."

"How could this possibly be your fault?"

"Well, we sort of knew something like this was going to happen, soon.  The magic shit show I mean.  Tikka had a dream, yeah?  I didn't say nothing, because -" 

Kandomere cautiously scented him, glad he could smell more than blood and death now, and heard him thinking loud thoughts about how Ward figured Kandomere had enough on his plate with the Inferni attacking him at every turn, and if there was going to be a magical fucking faceoff Ward should be at the front line of it, and maybe he could keep Kandomere and Nick out, no reason to bother trying with Tikka, she knew fucking everything there was to know and she'd never let him turn her away -

"You do realize," Kandomere said, brushing off Ward's hands with what little dignity he still had.  "That I have lived almost ten times your entire lifespan in this world.  I need no protection from you or from anybody, and the idea of it is frankly absurd."

"Yeah, fuck, I know.  I get that," Ward said.  "I told you this was my fault.  I was fucking stupid.  Tikka said I should tell you both, I said I would when the time was right or some shit, and it just never happened and, well.  Here we are.  Nick was fucking pissed; can't say I blame him.  So maybe we call this one an equal opportunity shit show and say we're square."

"I will agree not to speak of this again to anyone if you don't," Kandomere said, and Ward huffed a laugh and helped him to his feet, where Kandomere swayed and leaned unwillingly against him.  He had never been more grateful for the Human's superior height, not that he would ever tell Ward that.  The man had enough smugness to him; he didn't need further encouragement.

"Where did you get a shield?" Kandomere asked, looking down at where the Human had dropped it.  He squinted, frowning at the familiar Elvish script flowing across the surface.  "And why does it have the same inscription that Tikka wrote on your gorget?"

"Yeah, see," Ward said.  "I know we thought that thing was a magical ground, and it _is_.  But it's also sometimes this really big ass shield.  And it's been really fucking great to have on hand when I need something to block bullets or swords or just, like, bash some dude's head in.  So, there's that."

Kandomere sighed and decided this detail was too much to be going on with after tonight's, well, everything.  He turned and started to stagger for the door but Ward had other ideas, dragging him instead to the sleeping alcove, pressing him down onto the bed when Kandomere began to protest.

"Nah, listen," Ward said, removing the long coat from Kandomere's shoulders, batting the Elf's hands aside when he tried to prevent the man undoing the buttons on his shirt.  "This place is safe; there's nowhere we got to be.  Tikka and Nick are still - okay, that's going to take some explaining, we'll get back to that later - but the closest thing alive is about two miles off, some teens dumpster diving for food or shit I don't even want to know.  Considering the shit you just went through, not to mention the shit I went through to get here, I think we deserve a break.  Have a nap here; Tikka won't mind.  And I got the wand, so we're as safe here as we are anywhere."

"Yes," Kandomere muttered, sighing.  "Please do remind me to ask you how you came by that wand.  I had it securely buried beneath four concrete walls in a submerged safe well outside the city.  How you even found it is beyond me."

"Don't look at me, man.  Ask Tikka; I swear that girl's going to start talking in tongues one of these days.  You should have seen the shit going down at the Crossroads."

"The what?"

Ward ignored him, efficiently stripping off Kandomere's shirt, tugging off his pants -

"Nice briefs, man, took you for a boxers guy."

"Yes, _thank you_."

\- removing his shoes after a brief fumble, finally pausing when he'd managed to divest Kandomere of all his outer trappings to leave him sprawled and glaring up at the Human from Tikka's bed. 

The bed was rather larger than one single Elf might need to use, and Kandomere thought sourly about whether the girl had planned for this, or just had hopes one day she might accidentally-on-purpose have a chance to lend her bed to her favorite Human and his pet Elf.

"Well?" Kandomere asked, settling back, one hand across his stomach and the other resting near his ear, on the pillow.  Ward stared, blinking.  "Do you think I mean to relax here alone while you stand there staring for the rest of the night?  No.  Get rid of those awful clothes of yours and come here.  Be quick."

"Bossy," Ward commented, but began to strip down - where had he gotten those clothes anyway, had he raided a homeless shelter looking for the most disreputable and ill-fitting shirt and pants he could find?  "What happened to waiting for one day?"

"Commanding," Kandomere corrected, allowing his eyes to roam as they would.  Exhaustion was an ache in his bones, but anticipation dulled the edge of it to embers.  The magic was like a drug in his veins, full of false energy; he wondered if this was what caffeine felt like to Humans.  "And if today has proven anything it's that if we wait for it, one day might never come.  You helped me escape death by inches.  I'm happy to repay that favor in any way that might please you.  Or we may simply rest here, as we have done before, in the night." 

They didn't, often, but three times now since they'd made their pact of no-promises, Ward had drawn him down on the bed in one of the many safe houses they'd shared a night in.  And they'd lain there, sometimes sleeping, sometimes awake and staring or talking long into the night.  They'd never breached the careful wall between them, though desire was always a heady thing as the magic wove the fabric of them into one, braided them until Kandomere sometimes forgot where Ward stopped and he began.

Little more than one year of shared life with Ward in a span of more than four hundred.  It seemed such a small thing in comparison, one blade of grass in a wide meadow, one grain of sand in the dessert.  And yet.

"Somehow when I pictured this happening, doing it in Tikka's bed never featured," Ward commented when he was down to his undergarments (boxers).

"Ward, look at the size of this bed.  You may not have been picturing it happening here, but Tikka almost certainly was."

Ward scrunched up his face, horrified.  "Oh, thanks a lot, man.  Talk about killing the mood."

"I can help you with that," Kandomere said.  "Your magic is singing inside me.  If you'll allow me, I'll feed it back to you one sip at a time until your every breath is but a whisper waiting for more."

"Seriously, dude, I ain't a poetry and flowers kind of guy," Ward said, shucking off his boxers with slow deliberation.  "Don't got to butter me up.  You had me at 'get rid of those clothes'."

"If that's true then stop dithering and come here and get these off me," Kandomere said, slipping a finger beneath the waist of his briefs.  Ward stood before him quite unabashedly naked, the long full length of him revealed at last.  He watched as the Human hardened to half-mast, Ward with a rueful look on his face.

"Always knew I could count on you to keep it real, man," Ward said, and took his briefs off him.

They settled face to face, both of them on their sides.  Kandomere had long imagined what this first time might be like, the full richness of it, the many advanced techniques he'd acquired in his long life he might use to tempt Ward into greater and greater heights of ecstasy.  How he might make it good and irresistible and maddening for the Human so he would come panting back the next time for more.  But those things were fodder for fantasies, of course, and reality was a different thing; a more tangible and momentary and blissful thing.

He smiled, and rolled Ward over on his back so he could settle above him, his hair draping them in blue shadow as he leaned down to kiss the man.  A kiss was a delightful thing, but called for delicacy.  Kandomere's teeth were sharp, a carnivores teeth - he spared one brief thought to be thankful he had them still, but the healing magic had been generous - and Ward was a trusted weight beneath him.  The Human's facial hair was interesting, the sting and burn of it against Kandomere's mouth new and enthralling.  He laced one of their hands together, held Ward's face with the width of his other hand, pressed softly at his lips until Ward smiled against him. 

"If that's how you like it, not complaining," Ward said.  "But I ain't some delicate flower.  If you want more, I won't break."

Trust Ward to always be pushing the limits.

After that it was heat and wetness, a gentle curling fire between them.  Kandomere tried to teach him the best ways to avoid injury - kiss here, and here, like this, not that - but there were one or two mishaps.  Ward swore after the second one, then grinned, reaching to pull Kandomere closer by shoulder and hip.  The Human's cock lay hot and hard against him, and he rocked so they both gasped and shared air between their parted lips, and did it again.

It was a slow, easy, languid thing, and the magic swelled equally slowly between them.  Kandomere did as he'd promised, feeding it gently back into Ward one drop at a time until the Human tucked his face out of sight against Kandomere's neck and moaned in a soft, stuttering rhythm and breathed Kandomere's name on a laugh.

Kandomere raised his hand to lick loudly at his own fingers, offering them to Ward, who pulled back to smirk obnoxiously.  The Human drew two deeply into his mouth and sucked in a crude and obvious manner.  That it was smug and made Kandomere roll his eyes didn't dissuade his arousal, and Ward grinned triumph at him, scraping his teeth low over a knuckle.  Kandomere blinked away a starburst of color, focusing on the warm honeyed richness of Ward's skin; his hair, his eyes.  He rolled forward into the other man, rocking them roughly.

"Ah," Kandomere said softly, when pleasure started to peak.  He tried to draw back but Ward would not release him, the grin softening to a smile as the Human settled a hand on his hip and ass, pulling him backward and forward powerfully, driving the rhythm.  Kandomere took a breath, thinking ruefully of the well-laid plans of Elves.  He'd thought certainly he would outlast Ward this first time, and he yet might if he separated them.  But Ward was looking at him with gentle affection and encouragement, the heat in his expression clear as he urged Kandomere on.  The Human wanted to see him come apart, give in to this, and Kandomere could not disappoint him.

He smiled back in turn, rearing up on an elbow so Ward might see his face fully, let his eyes drift closed, his face drop forward so long hair spilled between them.  Ward brushed it back out of the way, clearly intent on watching him, and sucked in counterpoint as Kandomere writhed and gave himself over to the tempo of it.  He gasped as Ward traced along the edge of his right ear, exploring the point until it burned with sensation, tickling at the hollow until Kandomere had to finish or dissolve into nothing.  He came with Ward's name on his lips, panting harshly through the shock of it, the waves that came after, long and longer.  The Human caressed him through it, fingers fanning gently over his face.

When he could finally breathe normally again he let his hand, with its two tingling fingers, come to rest against the Human's chest, his heart.  Kandomere looked up, feeling the world settle dazedly around him, drenched in color.

"Your eyes are doing that thing again," Ward said.  "They look like stars in a sunset."

"And you said you didn't care for poetry," Kandomere whispered on a laugh, leaning down for a brazen kiss.

"What would you like?" Kandomere asked as they parted.  He settled somewhat to the side of Ward, lest he press all the air from the man.  "If there is something you would have of me, you need only ask."

"Hmm," Ward said, not reluctantly, only thinking.  The Human brushed his hair back again, one curious finger tracing the curved point of his other ear, and then pressing a light, humid kiss to it.  Kandomere breathed through the stab of sensation, turning to let Ward explore as he liked.

"I was going to say your mouth, but I get the feeling that's complicated," Ward said, pulling back to press a finger against the serrated edge of Kandomere's teeth.

"Yes," Kandomere said.  "It can be done, but not without preparation.  I doubt Tikka's planning extended quite that far, though given the existence of this bed I wouldn't put it entirely beyond her."

Ward laughed, relaxed and happy in a way Kandomere had rarely seen him.  He continued to trace thoughtfully at Kandomere's teeth, and the Elf let him, feeling no embarrassment at this intimate examination.  His body was as it had been for many ages; let the Human drink his fill as he saw fit, that he may have any part of it he wished to fulfill his need.

"There would be oil enough here, if you desire to have me," Kandomere said, tongue flickering out to taste Ward's fingers, a gentle countermove to their recent game.  "I wouldn't deny you."

"That's pretty fucking hot," Ward said, and indeed Kandomere could see the flush rise over him, scent the rise of his excitement.  But Ward smiled, shaking his head.  "No rush.  Next time, maybe."

"Time enough for all things," Kandomere agreed.  "After four hundred years I find I have very few preferences.  We will find the things that work for you as time goes on."

Ward glanced away, more reserved than Kandomere had ever seen him, but for Humans there was often a difference in the face they showed to people in their everyday interactions and those they shared in the deep intimacy of a bedroom.

"Your hand," Ward said.  "If you're still offering."

"Of course," Kandomere said, then leaned close to murmur wickedly in the Human's ear. "And what would you have me do with it?  Shall I take you in my grip and guide you achingly slow, or perhaps very fast, or some balance in between?  Or shall I use it to draw you near me, tight against my hip that you might rut against me until you have your release?  That is what you wanted to see of me, wasn't it.  Would you deny me the same sight of you?"

The deep spike of desire was clear in both scent and the sudden jerk of Ward's cock against him, the way the man clutched at his shoulder and the back of his neck with heavy pressure before releasing him.

"All that sounds great," Ward said, breathing out slowly.  "But I ain't in the mood to wait."

"Then speed you may have," Kandomere said, and gave his hand again to Ward, finding it was his turn to smile mischievously.  "Wet it as thoroughly as you wish to be wet."

"What, none of that oil you were talking about?" Ward asked, only one stumble in the pound of his heart giving away his arousal.

"Cooking oil is a fine thing, but your mouth will be better," Kandomere said.  He touched Ward's lips with his fingers, tracing them very slowly.  "You can say no."

"No," Ward said but smiled as he did, and lay his tongue along Kandomere's palm and set to work.

Kandomere sighed, recognizing immediately he'd made a tactical error in demanding this.  He could feel himself stir to life again against Ward's hip, and the Human paused, his whole face laughing at him.

"I can hear you thinking up a very witty joke about age and stamina, I'm sure," Kandomere said.  "But you might save it.  I seem to recall you were not in the mood to wait."

Soon enough Ward had done with his hand, and Kandomere reached between them, wrapping his fingers around the man's length.  The Human moaned softly, pressing his head back into the pillows to bare his throat.  Kandomere leaned down, set his sharp teeth against a tendon there, and grazed him very lightly.  Ward gasped and thrust up hard.

It wouldn't take long, between the adrenaline from before and Ward's patience while Kandomere had his.  And he was after all quite good at reading the faint tells of Ward's body; the small flinches, the deep rolls of his hips, the shiver along his flank, the needy spread of his legs.  All that would have been enough and wouldn't have needed much more anyway, but Kandomere had one more trick up his sleeve and he didn't mind surprising the Human with it.

"Quickly, you say?" Kandomere asked, smiling, and Ward opened hazy eyes to look at him, their color soft chocolate and taffy.  "If you insist."

He opened the connection between them, the magic a lazy, drifting thing through his veins, overflowing in Ward's, and _pulled_.

The Human's orgasm was intense and long, shuddering from one peak to the next as Kandomere kept him at a height for longer than most men would have managed without magical assistance.  Finally he stopped when Ward clamped a hand down hard on his wrist, breathing like a bellows as he panted harsh and aching against Kandomere's neck.

"Was that fast enough for you?" Kandomere asked, grinning in triumph, but looked down a moment later in fond exasperation when he realized the Human had dropped like a stone into sleep, exhausted beyond reason.

Well.  Perhaps that was only fair, after all.  He had saved Kandomere's life today.  He deserved just rewards, and sleep seemed an ideal coda to their long evening.

Kandomere trusted to Ward's protections and lay down beside him, the walls around them lit and dripping with power.  He curled guardedly around the Human's familiar form, closed his eyes, and waited for the world to turn.


	12. Chapter 12

The fallout from Kandomere's near death experience was twofold.

The first part Kandomere had expected.  Ward was a brightness in life that went unrivalled and the Human knew it.  It would have been impossible to hide the change in their relationship, so they didn't bother trying.  Tikka was insufferably happy at them for three entire weeks before Kandomere managed to annoy her sufficiently into ignoring him.  Jakoby was smug and self-important and insisted he'd known all along it would come to this.  There followed an endless parade of sex jokes that made Ward publicly curse and secretly smile.  Kandomere understood none of it, but that was fine; no one expected him to.

The second was more bittersweet.  Kandomere had again cemented himself in the eyes of his agents, having apparently vanished into the ether on the eve of a major magical attack only to return with two supposed victims untouched and unharmed, he himself appearing hale and whole.  Montehugh had been bitter and furious at being left behind and Kandomere had lowered himself to apologize sincerely for it.  It had taken many weeks for his second to forgive and forget. 

The most unnerving time in the investigation came when Ward and Jakoby were brought in for their separate interviews at the division office, and not necessarily because of the possibility their stories might be found wanting.  Amnesia in this case was a convenient excuse.  Every other agent and responder claimed the same thing, having legitimately been hit with a memory spell.  But that wasn't the problem; the problem was that Ward nearly glowed with the force of his magic now, as if a thin veneer of tedium had been shed as he stepped fully into his power.  The man still had spells to learn, certainly; he was nowhere near to mastering it.  But he'd moved into a space that took him beyond the constraints of the mundane, and it showed.  Even Tikka and Jakoby agreed that Ward needed to be careful.

The Inferni remained a threat, but a stymied one.  They'd made it was clear they knew Kandomere was involved in a bid for power and had steeped himself in magic, but their constant attacks quickly trickled to a stop.  They were wary now of eliminating him, perhaps because he'd apparently foiled two of their plots, but more probably because Tikka was hidden from their sight at the Crossroads, and as far as they were aware there was no one else who could tell them what they wanted to know. 

Kandomere learned later what the Crossroads was, what it meant, came to understand that in the height of an attack Tikka had sent a storm of magic to hide her escape while the Inferni left death behind her.  She'd taken Ward and Jakoby into one of her hideaways.  It was a place that existed not wholly as part of the world as Kandomere knew it.  There was a tree there flowing into a pool of water that seemed lit from within.  When she showed it to him, he didn't look long, afraid and knowing in the marrow of his bones he would be lost to a dream of the whole world if he didn't keep his distance from it.  Kandomere was not made to commune amongst the coven; he craved the pull of magic too strongly. 

Tikka found his reluctance strange and perplexing, but Ward considered caution more than warranted.

"That pool is scary as fuck, man," Ward confided.  "You know how none of us understand half the shit Tikka says?  Well, when I stand in that thing, she actually _makes_ _sense_.  If she pulls you in and you start talking in more riddles than usual I'm getting the fuck out of here and never coming back."

So Tikka agreed to keep to her hideaway for a time and the Inferni floundered in impotent frustration, their only two sources of information well out of their reach.

It had never been so obvious to Kandomere that their quest -

"Dude, stop channeling Nick.  If you guys call this thing a shitty fucking quest one more time I'm going to shoot myself in the face.  Then you'll be right back at the beginning of this stupid fairy tale, and good fucking luck with that."

\- was coming to an end.  All it would take was one politician, one Elf with strong latent magic running unexpectedly into Ward or Kandomere, reporting back to the wrong people.  Kandomere had enough markers in the city, enough eyes, enough spies, that should anyone in the mundane world come for him he'd have warning long before they arrived on his doorstep.  But there was no way to account for all roads to ruin.  If someone in power decided to take the easy way and send a sniper after them from afar, well.  Not even magic could account for everything.

To bring more attention to themselves was foolish, and yet Kandomere considered it was perhaps more foolish not to take advantage of his position while he still had it.  So he reached for higher contacts that he'd ever dared before.  So far he'd always been careful to keep their networking to the lower levels, beneath official notice, but even the higher levels weren't impervious; even in Elf politics, there were idealists.

Kandomere knew, because he made it his business to know, that of the fifty-nine Magic Task Force field offices spread across the United States, eight division leads currently declined the privilege of overseeing the eradication of Brights.  Two of them because they had an Elf second that was eager and efficient in taking on this task.  But six because of reasons unknown.  And after much research and some very vague and nonthreatening enquiries, the reasons all boiled down to one: they didn't want to do it.

Finding out the reasons behind _that_ was where Tikka and Jakoby came in.  They couldn't send Ward, not as he was now, and _certainly_ not with the danger these contacts represented.

Jakoby nearby exploded in ecstatic bliss when he found out.

"Really?" the Orc asked, beaming.  "Really, I get to - you want me to go?  You're sending _me_?"

"Yes," Kandomere said, and thought the man might float away with joy.  "You and Tikka will both be going.  It will be up to the both of you how want to arrange things, but either way this shouldn't be done alone."

"We may need to move fast," Tikka said, warningly, to Jakoby's euphoric face.  "You will need to be prepared to run."

Kandomere looked at her suspiciously, but she was serene.  If there was something more to her counsel than simple logic, she didn't say.

"I can run!" Jakoby said.   Then he hesitated, frowning doubtfully.  "Well, I can sprint a bit, but I'm not really good at long-distance.  Maybe someone else should go.  I'll probably just slow you down."

Kandomere considered Jakoby closely, more confident by the minute he'd made the right decision.  The Orc had grown past his own eager naivety, and he was faithful to a fault and would protect Tikka with his own life.  She couldn't ask for a more loyal defender.

"Speed won't be as much an issue as coordination," Kandomere said.  "You'll be visiting five states in rapid succession, and you won't be able to take a plane or travel in any fashion that tracks your presence.  Tikka would be caught by a detector if you tried.  And it would likely endanger more than just your own lives."

"I have a way,” Tikka said serenely, and for the first time Jakoby looked regretful, even a bit vaguely ill around the edges.  "It will be much faster, and there'll be no chance of discovery."

"Uh, maybe Ward should take this one," Jakoby said nervously.  "The pools are kind of, I mean, do we have to -"

"Yes," Tikka said, and Jakoby said no more after that.

Kandomere circumvented Ward's inevitable objections by simply sending them before the Human was aware they were going.  Ward came to him at the end of a tense week, both of them slipping into the Mid-Wilshire safe house under cover of night, fine tuned senses still on the lookout for surveillance.  So far nothing, friendly or otherwise.

"Hey," Ward said as he came in to find Kandomere cooking a meal.  Marinated pork tenderloin roasted in the oven while the Elf inexpertly tried a hand at chopping vegetables for a basic salad.

"Hello," Kandomere said, frowning at the eggplant in his grip.

"You trying to tell me something?" Ward asked, and Kandomere looked up to find the man grinning at him, eyebrows raised as he tipped a query at the vegetable.  Kandomere looked at it again, perplexed.  He had to scent the air, rich was amusement and some arousal, before he understood.

"Really?" Kandomere asked, weighing the eggplant suspiciously.  "Do Humans use vegetables for such things?  That doesn't seem very hygienic."

"Well, I don't know if people eat them after," Ward said, laughing.  "Or if they do I hope they fucking wash them first."  He took it from Kandomere to slice up on the cutting board, dropping a quick, thorough kiss on the Elf first.  Kandomere blinked at him, dazed.

"How did you know I liked eggplant?" Ward asked.  "It ain't exactly typical."

"I didn't," Kandomere said.  "I was simply fond of the color."

"Oh," Ward said, smile softening at the edges.  They spoke rarely of this Elf affectation, but Kandomere knew pigment had started to seep into the membranes of his eyes, staining them a near permanent array of green, yellow and blue.  He wore tinted sunglasses into the task force office more often than not these days because he had no desire to answer the questions his agents would likely ply him with should they see.  They'd become more free with their brazen curiosity about him as the days went on, and Kandomere found he had less and less distance to put between himself and his subordinates.  Sometimes their shameless concern was surprisingly interesting, but other times it was just annoying.

Kandomere left the vegetables to Ward; purple eggplant and pink radishes and yellow peppers and orange carrots and green lettuce.  Kandomere would try them all tonight, a small sampling, to see how flavor married to color.  Elf biology wasn't designed to digest plant material, but they were adaptive; a minor experiment wouldn't injure him.

"So, I'm riding a desk this week," Ward said pleasantly as the knife thunked rhythmically into the cutting board.

"Oh?" Kandomere asked distractedly, watching Ward deal with the vegetables with enviable efficiency.

"Yeah, apparently Nick's off on a week's urgent leave.  Something about his sister."

"Interesting," Kandomere said, watching Ward slice the top off the peppers and begin dicing.

"Uh huh.  Interesting's a good word for it, because I know for a fact he doesn't have a sister.  Or at least not an Orc one.  So, you want to tell me what the fuck's going on?"

This last Ward asked while pointing the knife at him, and Kandomere regarded the sharp tip of the blade with interest, following the shining edge of it up to see Ward's eyes watching him calmly.

"They're out on an operation," Kandomere said candidly, shrugging and putting both hands in his pockets.  He'd stripped off his vest, tie and cufflinks and was down to just the dress shirt.  He'd thought it might make him seem less threatening.  Now he eyed the knife and wondered if he should have put on body armor.

"Yeah, figured that one out for myself, thanks," Ward said.  "What operation?"

"They're making contact with six of the other Magic Task Force division leaders," Kandomere admitted.  "Well, Tikka is.  Jakoby's there mostly for backup and moral support.  Tikka knows to keep his face hidden; he's a known entity, being the first Orcish police officer.  But it wasn't safe for her to go without a partner."

"Which is why you should've sent me," Ward said, still eerily calm.

"This will all end soon," Kandomere said.  "We're likely speaking in terms of weeks or months, at this point, not years.  And that's if we're lucky.  When that happens, we need them to remain in ignorance as long as possible to the presence of an adult Human Bright.  If they prove to be allies, you may have your opportunity to befriend them.  Until then, Tikka and Jakoby will run interference."  Kandomere made no apology; he wouldn't have meant it anyway, and Ward would be aware of that.

"You're just a ray of fucking sunshine, man, you know that right?" Ward asked.  "I'm so pissed at you right now.  But I'm more pissed at Nick for going along with it."

"He almost turned it down," Kandomere said.

"Really?"

"He was concerned for Tikka's safety should he prove ineffective backup."

Ward continued in silence until the rest of the vegetables were done and an enormous bowl of colorful salad sat brightly on the counter.

"He's a good dude," Ward said quietly.  "Always has been."

"He's growing into a better one," Kandomere said.  "As we all are."

"Except for Tikka.  She's just as crazy now as she ever was."

"You can tell her you think so when they return in a week," Kandomere said.  "Or when they call for daily check-in at nine o'clock."

"Shut up and eat your damn salad," Ward muttered, taking the pork loin out of the oven when the timer pinged.

"The salad is for you.  I can only have a small bowl."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?  How the fuck am I supposed to eat all that?  You put a damn grocery store in there."

"Technically, you did," Kandomere corrected.

"I will stab you with this fork, motherfucker.  Don't think I won't."

Jakoby called at the appointed time, an hour after they'd finished a late dinner, and reported their arrival in Washington and one contact made; that division lead had a solidly neutral stance, and Kandomere was not surprised by this.  He'd met the Elf multiple times at various political events, and the man was neither overly impressive nor intimidating.  If Kandomere could have used only one word to describe him it would have been 'average'.  He'd sent Tikka and Jakoby to that one first because he'd been the most predictable encounter.  The next five would be more interesting.

After they hung up, Ward stood and for a moment Kandomere thought he meant to leave, and he steeled himself to weather the Human's temper.  But Ward only sighed and held a hand out to him, gesturing impatiently.

"Come on," Ward said.  "You owe me for keeping me in the dark about this shit.  If you'd explained I would've understood."

"No, you wouldn't have," Kandomere said.

"Alright, I wouldn't have," Ward said.  "But still."

"Do you mean to take it out in trade?" Kandomere asked, standing, taking his hand to follow him down the hall.  Magic and anticipation pulled taut between them, humming a familiar song.

"Fuck, yes," Ward said, and yanked him into the bedroom and kicked the door shut behind them.

"Why do Humans do that?" Kandomere asked as Ward shuffled over to the bed, stripping off his clothes to leave in suggestive trails behind him.

"Do what?"

"Shut a door for privacy when there's no one else present," Kandomere said, taking the time to remove his own pants, withdrawing two items from the pockets as he did so.

"Habit," Ward said.  "Why?  Elves like open doors or some shit?  This interfering with your feng shui?"

"Most Elves do experience some element of claustrophobia," Kandomere admitted.  "Small spaces have the feeling of a trap and our instinct is for wider, less enclosed areas."

"Shit, seriously?" Ward asked, pausing.  "We can open it."

"No need," Kandomere said.  "I mastered that long ago, and in any case I don't think there's a trap that could hold the two of us.  I simply don't understand your impulse to it."

"Don't know, man.  The thought of staring into a dark fucking hall while we're - yeah, no."

"Ah."  Kandomere supposed that made sense; Humans disliked the dark, whereas for an Elf the dark was an old, familiar companion.  Strong night vision was clearly a benefit. 

"What's up with you?" Ward said, sitting down on the bed to remove his socks, folding them neatly into a ball which he tossed in Kandomere's direction.  "You planning to stay over there all night?"

"Not at all," Kandomere said, voice muffled as he drew the shirt off his shoulders and discreetly slipped one of the items into his mouth.  He followed Ward's example more slowly, ambling across the floor to leave his clothes in haphazard piles and leaned over the Human to stare down at him.  Ward stared back boldly, smirking and hard.  Kandomere kissed him lightly on the lips, mouth closed.  Then he slid down the Human's body to land on his knees before him.

Ward blinked with surprise as Kandomere framed the man's hips in his hands and pulled him forward until he teetered on the edge of the bed.  Ward stretched his long legs to either side of Kandomere, feet flat on the floor, propping up on his elbows for balance.

"What -"

"Relax," Kandomere said, leaning forward to scent deeply at the junction of hip and leg, tracing his tongue delicately up the sensitive seam of skin joining the two.  Ward punched out a jagged breath, shivering beneath him.

"This is me being the total opposite of relaxed," Ward said, and Kandomere smiled.

Then he opened his mouth and slid it down Ward's cock, all the way down.  Ward grunted hoarsely, falling back to stare up at the ceiling, and his scent was mostly shocked arousal, but the faintest wisp of fear edged him like a halo.  Kandomere pulled back to lick at him, then deliberately pressed his teeth into the jut of his left hip bone, gently.  Ward flinched.  Then paused.

"What the fuck," Ward said, reaching, and Kandomere let his wandering fingers feel the rim of the hard plastic caps, blunting the edge of serrated teeth.  Kandomere bit him hard, just because he could, and the room flooded with surprised heat.

"Holy fuck," Ward said.  "That shit should not be as hot as it is.  Did you _plan_ for this, you asshole?"

"I assumed I might need to buy my way back into your good graces," Kandomere admitted.  "This was plan A."

"What the fuck was plan B?"

"Still to follow plan A."

"Well, don't let me fucking stop you."

Kandomere let his mouth answer for him, sliding it back onto Ward and sucking him slowly, leisurely, moving Ward with strong hands in a mild, thrusting rhythm.  The Human was generous with pleasure but he was never patient, and tonight was no exception.  Kandomere waited until Ward was panting and juddering against his hold, calloused fingers threading at first pleadingly and then impatiently in his hair.  Then he gave the man what he wanted, languid sucking turning short and sharp, his hands smoothing down Ward's long legs, pressing him open wide and teasing one of the pressure points on an inner thigh with prickles of magic until the Human swore at him, writhing.

Ward came with a choked off curse, bending close over Kandomere's head as the shudders rolled through him, his whole body trembling with it.  When he finished, he drew Kandomere up to lay beside him as he collapsed backward, panting.

"Remind me," Ward gasped, a gleam of sweat shining at his temples, "to never doubt your plans again."

"How interesting you should say that," Kandomere said, and showed him the second item he'd kept on hand.  Ward eyed the small tube of lubricant with caution.

"Well, I mean," Ward said warily.  "Not every plan can be a winner."

"Would you deny me?" Kandomere asked, and he knew it was cruel, but he'd never claimed to be kind.  The savage, greedy part of him demanded satisfaction, demanded ownership and a stamp of possession.  Fighting those instincts during sex was always difficult.  Three times he'd almost bitten Ward in the height of pleasure, set teeth into his flesh and left a terrible, shredded wound behind.  Tonight he'd guarded against that, and his thwarted instincts required something for their forfeit.

"That's kind of a trick question," Ward said.

"It really isn't," Kandomere said, shifting until he blanketed the Human, dense muscle and strength settling at hips and thighs and chest.  Ward looked up at him and Kandomere scented his deep uncertainty; the man wasn't afraid, he was never afraid, but he was guarded.  Ward's magic glowered in the air between them, coming to attention like a sleeping dog rousing to its masters call.  The burn of its warning menace licked like electricity up Kandomere's spine.  He couldn't quite contain his soft moan.

"If you wanted to see a magic trick," Ward said wryly, light beginning to bleed from his skin in a confused tangle of defensive arousal.  "You just needed to ask."

"I'm asking," Kandomere said, tipping the lubricant into the light, "for you to trust me."

"If I didn't," Ward responded lowly, "I wouldn't be here."

Kandomere took that as the permission it was, wedging open the tube and pouring out a small amount on his hand, reaching down to touch himself, groaning quietly at the feel of his own hand.  The thrill of playful cruelty paled beneath the thrill of a greater victory.  Kandomere had never realized what a gift, what a blazingly incredible, arousing, fantastic gift it was; to be known and trusted.

He reached for Ward's thighs and the man spread them slowly, but Kandomere shook his head with a smile.

"No," he said, tucking them back together, wedging his slick hand between them.  "Like this."

Into the close space between Ward's legs, Kandomere thrust until the friction closed around his cock, gasping at the tight feel of flesh all around him, the close humid heat of their breath and sweat.

Ward stared at him, his mouth slack and pupils dilated to leave only slim rings of brown behind.  Kandomere kept this image in mind as he closed his eyes and began to move, rocking tightly down into the cage of Ward's thighs, the prison a warm and inviting one.  Kandomere had deliberately smeared just the basic slick required for this, had left the rough catch of tacky skin to satisfy the craving for rougher sensation his body demanded.

"I would never take more from you than you were ready to give," Kandomere said, panting into Ward's neck as the Human let him rut, raising hot hands to frame his shoulders, fingers just brushing over his tendons and bone.

"I believe you," Ward said, and tipped his head back obligingly.  Kandomere's instincts stuttered, clawing at him hard.

"Go on," Ward said.  "I know you want to.  You're not as subtle as you think you are."

Kandomere moaned, and staggered through four more ragged thrusts before orgasm slammed him like a train and he gave into the overwhelming desire to claim and bit Ward low on his neck, hard enough to bruise deeply even through the caps. 

Ward grunted, aroused and pained, and consciously chose not to fight him, his magic sinking quietly back inside his skin with just one final warning flare of power.  And Kandomere had never felt more deeply for him than he did in that moment, his instincts and his mind in exquisite harmony for the first time in centuries.

"Next time," Ward said, breathing the words right into his ear so they slid silkily into Kandomere's body like fire.  "My turn to use the lube."

"It's yours, of course," Kandomere whispered.  "And so am I."

"You fucking sap.  If you bust out with the hearts and flowers next," Ward said.  "I _will_ kill you."

"Nothing wrong with flowers," Kandomere said, and then they were both quiet for a time.

"We can't bring Tikka or Nick here anymore," Ward said eventually, still with his head tilted back, Kandomere's blunted teeth now soothing at the bruise already beginning to darken.  "Nothing can stop them laughing this shit up every time they see me, but fuck if that means we have to lead them right to the scene of the crime."

"It's not as if they haven't seen it before," Kandomere murmured, thoroughly distracted.  "We weren't discreet about using Tikka's bed when -"

"Dude, do _not_ remind me of that right now," Ward said.

"I'm only saying, there's little we can do to hide -"

"Ain't hiding," Ward said.  "Just some things shouldn't be open to the public, you know?"

"If that's your wish," Kandomere said, and kissed the Human to shut him up when Ward inevitably opened his mouth to argue.

Kandomere dreamed about Ward for the first time that night, while the man lay next to him breathing slow and heavy, and they dozed in the twilight.  Kandomere didn't realize what was happening until it was too late to stop it; when dozing became sleep, and sleep became a current, and the current sent him drifting into a dream.

He found himself walking and couldn't quite remember when he'd started or where he meant to be.  That went on for a time and he felt no urgency to change it.  All around him the landscape was green and fresh, the life beneath his feet rich and fragrant with the scent of bloom and dirt.  A flower caught his eye, vibrant purple and achingly beautiful.  He stooped to smell it, smiling at the blossom's eagerness to thrive, it's urgent call to the ground and air that the growing time had come.  He fed it a tiny morsel of magic and let it go to flourish in its season, and kept walking.

In time he came to a gully, steeply inclined, and though normally he couldn't imagine why he'd want to descend down such a thing, down he went, picking a meandering path through old tree roots and loose shale until he reached the bottom.  He listened to the low burble of water spilling past, picked up the occasional rock to toss across the way, and dipped his hand into icy chill until he was satisfied he'd wasted enough time.  He came around the bend of a boulder just in time, peering unhurriedly around to see the sun setting the sky alight with deep pinks and purples and beneath that, a wall of magic starting to shimmer like molten sunlight.

'Ward', he called, or thought he did.  It was difficult to tell; he was both inside and outside himself, couldn't feel his mouth move, and yet the name fell from him without thought.

He looked around, because the Human had to be nearby with that level of power sweating into the air.  Eventually he found him sitting against a rock, eyes closed, left foot held out straight with the right clasped at the knee with both hands.  Ward always favored his right side these days, having to stretch and bend the left often to prevent it from stiffening up.  Kandomere frequently offered to massage it for him, stripping off the man's pants and setting to work, and sometimes Ward accepted graciously.  But more often than not they knew the whole thing would end in one or both of them losing more clothes and progressing from there, so now Kandomere only offered when he knew they had the time to make good on the opportunity.

Kandomere made sure they frequently found the time and opportunity, because Ward always smiled at him with such delightful humor and fond affection when Kandomere plied him with pleasure.  And afterward Ward would inevitably accuse him of being insatiable, and Kandomere would prove him right by rolling the man over for round two.

'Ward,' he said again, and the Human turned to look at him, opening his eyes with a wonderful smile that vanished into surprise as they stared at one another.

'Oh,' Ward said, looking into the heart of Kandomere and seeing something unexpected there. 'Oh, shit.  No fucking way.'

'What?' he asked, and one part of him was puzzled, and another part was smug, but both parts were thinking about how to bring that smile back to Ward's face.

Ward obliged him, grinning, and then laughing as he put his head back against the rock while Kandomere approached.

'Oh, man,' Ward said, as Kandomere leaned down to lay a hand along the side of his face and tilt him so their eyes could meet.  Ward laughed again at the sight of him, and Kandomere laughed too, delighted. 'Oh, you crafty fucking Elf.'

'You can't blame me,' Kandomere heard himself say.  'I have few enough dreams as it is; few times where I'm in perfect harmony.  But that night was one of them, and today is another.  Now in this moment there are two of me, and we're both brimming full of you.  And you need all the help you can get.'

'Oh, I do, do I?' Ward sighed, and tugged him down to rest their foreheads together as power rose around them like starlight and flame.  'This is dangerous, you know.  You're not supposed to dream this way.  It's not safe.  It ain't normal.'

'I've never liked normal and neither have you,' Kandomere said. 

'Don't fucking kid yourself.  I loved normal right up until I met you.'

'How fortunate for me, then,' Kandomere said, gasping as magic poured from him like blood from a wound.

'Why?' Ward asked, sighing, raising both hands now to cradle either side of the Elf's neck.  Kandomere leaned into the rich immensity of him, panting.

'I don't like taking chances,' he said.  'The sun is setting and it's almost time, now.  They're coming.'

'You crazy bastard,' Ward said, the whole world blistering with the heat of his power. 'Next time I dream, assuming we live to see a next time, I don't care when I end up.  I'm going to kick your fucking ass.'

'You would waste a dream kicking my ass?' Kandomere asked.  'Wouldn't you much rather -'

'No, I would _not_ ,' Ward said.  He brushed Kandomere's long hair behind an ear and pulled him close.  'How did you even do this?  I don't know how to do this.'

'Because it can't be done,' Kandomere said, slumping to his knees in front of him, breathless and dizzy as he watched light and color begin to waver into mournful gray.  'The only reason I could is because you've made an event horizon in this place and let me stand at the edge of it with you.  This was the only chance.  It will never come again.'

'So that's a no on kicking your ass, then,' Ward said, and leaned forward and kissed him, thoroughly and slow.

'Not in a dream,' Kandomere said when the man let him go.  He found himself slumping over, a hollow ache like pain in his core, the dull film of a grayscale world an untold agony inside him.

'Stay with me, man,' Ward said, running warm, soothing fingers over his face, easing a smattering of green back into Kandomere's sight so he could breathe more easily.  'If you force me to go in there after you, I'll be so fucking pissed.'

'I would not leave you,' Kandomere said, and meant it with everything he had.  'Neither of us will.'

'Well,' Ward said, and tipped his face up until he had no choice but to stare at the Human, drawn to the flame of him like a helpless moth. 'One of you will have to, for now at least.  Having two of you in there's confusing the shit out of your system.  Hang on, let me -'

Kandomere shot up in bed, darkness on a blue late-evening background whirling in a nauseating mix around him.  He pin-wheeled sideways until he felt gravity snatch him up and plunge him directly into the ground.  Winded, he sprawled on his back and heaved for air, blinking up at the ceiling in astonishment.

Ward leaned over to peer down at him, one shadow amongst many.  There was a look of halfway concern and halfway disbelief tugging one side of his mouth up into a grin.

"Hey, man," he said.  "What the fuck are you doing down there?"

"I'm not sure," Kandomere admitted, unmoving.  Ward raised both eyebrows at him, waiting, finally furrowing them together and leaning down tap him on the shoulder.

"You okay?" Ward asked.  "Hit your head or something?"

"No, I - no."

"So, what?"

"I was dreaming," Kandomere said, blankly.

"Well, you just about jumped off the bed.  Bad one?"

"Not at all," Kandomere said.  "Quite the opposite.  You were there."

Ward opened his mouth with humor in his eyes and his scent, but apparently thought better of it.  He slipped to his feet, disentangling himself from the sheets to help Kandomere up.

"Trying to imagine what good dreams with me in them could involve jumping off the bed," Ward said when they were both standing.

"Elves don't dream as Humans do," Kandomere said absently, rubbing at a bruise already forming on his elbow.  "We dream in the thin space between time where harmony runs each moment in life together."

"What the fuck, man," Ward said.  "You sure you didn't hit your head?"

"No, I did," Kandomere admitted.  "I think I might be bleeding, actually.  But that's not the problem."

"Show me," Ward said.

"I can't show you.  It was a dream."

"No, show me your head," Ward said patiently.

"Oh," Kandomere said, and showed him.

"Definitely bleeding," Ward said, and swept a hand over the wound to heal it.

The touch of Ward's magic was wonderful partly because it took away the pain, but mostly because it soothed the terrible ache of emptiness inside Kandomere.

"I should hit my head again," he said, thinking dazedly that if he did, surely Ward would heal that too, and that would be a fine, incredible thing.

"The fuck is wrong with you?" Ward asked rhetorically.  Then he put a hand to Kandomere's forehead, obnoxiously checking for a fever.  Kandomere batted it away irritably, though that made a spark of magic jump between them, looking for balance.  Except this time it wasn't Ward's magic out of control; the Human had that difficulty well in hand.  Now it was Kandomere's magic out of control, the barren wasteland inside him a wide, desperate maw of yearning.  The flavor of Ward was normally in his being, in his bones and breath, in the center of him; now there was nothing.   

"Well, you don't feel hot," Ward said.  "So I'll assume just your usual delusional self.  Hang on; do Elves even fucking get fevers?"

"I'm not delusional," Kandomere said, grabbing Ward's hand before it could settle on the man's hip.  At his beseeching tug, magic obliged by streaming from the Human into him and Kandomere traced its path to his own core, where that incredible lack of Ward was still sending all his instincts into panicked overdrive.  Before he'd fallen into the dream he'd been brimming with Ward's power, they both had.  The sharing had reached a point, in fact, where they spent more time equalizing the magic between them than they did with Kandomere taking it from Ward.  Now Kandomere had been reduced to only himself, and it was so desperately lonely he couldn't imagine how for four hundred years he'd never noticed it.

"Of course you're not," Ward said soothingly, and irritation flared.

"Don't be patronizing.  I'm not.  It's been centuries since I last dreamed.  Waking from one is always disorienting."

"Centuries since - are you fucking serious?"

"Elves don't dream of strange or frivolous things the way other races do.  They dream truly.  And to dream at all is rare enough.  There are only so many converging points in life where one is open to the dreaming on both ends and can peer through the lens to the other side."

"Are you seriously telling me Elves dream in, what?  Prophecies?" Ward asked, not entirely disbelieving, but not entirely accepting either.

"Of course not," Kandomere said.

"Right," Ward said.

"Prophecies are vague and imprecise," Kandomere told him.  "No Elf would lower themselves to prophesising.  Elf dreams are much more precise."

"Uh huh," Ward said.  "Sure they are.  Fucking Elves.  Why did I have to get involved with Elves?"

"Because you'd be bored without us," Kandomere said, almost speaking to himself as he finally sat down on the bed, his instincts satisfied now they were beginning to warm with Ward's scent and power again.  Ward made no comment, sitting next to him peacefully, even though he must have felt Kandomere's sudden draw of power and wondered at it.  But he made no move to stop it, or to pull away.  Ward trusted him implicitly now.  More than that; his magic trusted Kandomere implicitly. 

This was the truth the Inferni had forgotten; there was no secret way in which to seed magic in others.  There was only Nature and biology.  Elves could not steal or gift magic in any way that endured, because only Humans had that skill.  Magic was immutable; it could not be fooled or subverted, nor coerced unwillingly with pain or fear by someone of lesser strength.  That was why Human Brights died beneath the heel of jealous Elves, who weren't willing to bow or beg for favor from a power greater than themselves.

"What did you dream?" Ward asked finally when the magic calmed to a contented tide between them.  He nudged Kandomere sideways until the Elf was stretched out away on the bed, staring up at the Human as he loomed over him, face serious and drawn.

"I dreamt the man you will be, powerful and alive," Kandomere said.  "And my own stupidity."

"So nothing new there, then," Ward said, leaning into him until he was pressing Kandomere down and Kandomere bared teeth at him, tipping his head back when Ward was unimpressed until the Human gave into a power older than both of them and leaned in to bite him.

Kandomere curled a hand around the man's neck, felt the reassuring thrum of magic between them, and hoped Ward might never leave him, because if he did Kandomere wasn't sure he'd be able to bear it.  He'd have to make contingency plans for this; he'd tell Tikka; he'd tell Jakoby.  They would protect Ward if Kandomere ever turned from the path, ever lost his way in darkness or gave into his instincts and held to something that should not be his; something that might one day ask to be free.

He thought of the dream, remembered the feeling of his own devotion honed to a killing sharpness, and wondered if that was why he'd chosen that moment.  So he might realize there were no rules he wasn't willing to break, no covenant so sacred he wouldn't shatter it for this man.

It was possible Ward had hit on something unexpectedly accurate.  This whole thing had the feeling of a prophecy.

Perhaps Kandomere would refrain from telling Jakoby after all.  The Orc would never let him live it down.


	13. Chapter 13

It ended in the early morning of a beautifully warm and lustrous day, so picturesque that later Kandomere thought he should have expected only chaos could follow.  But he didn't anticipate, and ultimately it happened in a way none of them had ever quite predicted or planned for.  But then, that was not so unusual.  As far as Kandomere was concerned, nothing at all since he'd met Ward had ever happened exactly to plan.

It hadn't even gone nine in the morning when Montehugh, uninvited, opened the door to his office, shut and locked it behind himself, and took three steps to stand grimly in front of Kandomere's desk.

"Yes?" Kandomere said, a cup of mint tea halfway to his lips.  The look on Montehugh's face wasn't promising and he prepared himself with foreboding for ill news.  There'd been no urgent updates or signs of panic on his phone when he'd checked it an hour ago.  He'd been careful not to ignore any messages since the last time someone had tried to kill him.  Ward had only recently stopped eyeing him like he thought an assassin was going to jump out of the woodwork and gut Kandomere with a penknife at any given moment.  Kandomere had rather hoped it might be some time before he saw that look again.

He wondered if that hope was about to be thoroughly dashed.

"What is it?" he asked, waiting to see if Montehugh might close the window blinds, bring out the jammer, turn it on.  But the Human just sighed, pointing with his left thumb back over his shoulder.

"Think you better come see this, boss.  Have a feeling your boyfriend won't like it.  Been more than a year, but from what little you've told me Ward isn't someone to let any damsel in distress go down easy."

"Stop speaking in riddles," Kandomere said, already getting to his feet.  "What's happened?"

"They found a Bright.  Pulled her in with a wand.  She's alive, barely, but I don't know for how much longer.  The team's already thrown her in lock-up and they weren't gentle about it."

"Who?" Kandomere said, but he already knew, of course he did, and the knowledge was like fire in his heart; not her, _not_ her.

"It's that Elf who was running from Leilah," Montehugh said, and Kandomere closed his eyes in despair.  "The one Ward and Jakoby got involved with.  Uh, what was her name, hang on, I have it here -"

"Tikka," Kandomere said numbly, and followed the Human out.

She was a sorry sight, laying half-conscious in her cell, blood and dirt caked heavily over the side of her face, her eyes.  One of her hands had been broken, the left; the one she always held the wand in, when Ward let her use it.  Though it belonged to the Human, he was generous and willing, always, to let Tikka have her way with it when she wanted.  They were family, and he begrudged her nothing.

Now, of course, she held nothing in her hand; Kandomere had the wand at his side, flickering in its containment unit, orange, always orange.  Normally they wouldn't keep a Bright so close to a confiscated wand, and even with Tikka in no condition to stage a getaway his having it here was a serious breach of protocol.  If he'd cared one whit to note it, if he thought he had a place here after today, he knew he would face serious reprimand from the Director for this.

But all of that mattered very little, because after today he would no longer work with Magic Task Force, for they would surely not have him after he broke Tikka out.

She was lucky they'd brought her in alive.  The task force teams were brutally efficient; they'd killed many a prospective Bright even when they hadn't been carrying a wand with them.

"How was she found?" Kandomere asked, staring, wrapping one hand around the bars of her cage.  He scented deeply to drink in the beat of life yet remaining in Tikka, her pain and anguish, her desire not to hurt these others who knew not what they were doing, her chagrin that she'd been caught at all.

"Anonymous tip," Montehugh said, standing next to him.  It was only the two of them in the room, but the whole division was likely watching through the security cameras, probably even now crowing sickeningly about their supposed victory.  "A legit one this time, from what I could tell.  Low priority, just a report of an Elf at some hovel downtown.  Team didn't know she was a Bright at first.  They pulled backup from SWAT when they realized who she was, went right in without reporting back.  Fucking greenhorns.  Miracle no one was killed."

Kandomere blinked, thinking he should have insisted more strongly Tikka stop visiting her home.  She'd stayed almost exclusively at the Crossroads over the last months, as wary of discovery as they all were, but every now and then she insisted on going home, sometimes for a book or item she'd left behind, other times just for a taste of normalcy.  He couldn't blame her; it was never easy for an Elf to give up territory.  The visits were as random as they could make them to avoid Inferni counterattacks, and in any case Tikka had been confident none of the Inferni would ever think to find her there again, not after their traps had failed so spectacularly.  Apparently she'd been right, at least about the Inferni.  But she'd forgotten to take into account other eyes watching, other concerned citizens who might balk at the sight of an Elf coming and going suspiciously through the heart of Los Angeles.

What was that Human phrase?  Something about hindsight.  How strange, that it should come to this; not discovered by the Inferni, nor attacked by some unnamed foe.  Simply revealed by poor timing and well-meant intentions.

"She's in poor shape," Kandomere said.  "I can see she won't be giving us answers anytime soon."

"Yeah, team three was a little overzealous," Montehugh said.  "I already read them the riot act."

Ah.  Team three was mostly comprised of Elves; young ones, at that.  Of course an Elf would be aggressive bringing in a renegade Bright.

"How many others were involved?" Kandomere asked.  Montehugh told him, and it was very bad indeed.  By now the whole division would know they'd brought in a Bright with a wand, eight against one, and by the end of the day - by the end of the hour, even - news would reach the other divisions, shortly followed by the Director.  Of the six division leads Tikka and Jakoby had initiated contact with those months ago, three had been neutral, one hostile, one cautiously friendly and one an ally.  But these events were moving too fast to look to such alliances now; they were out of time.

Kandomere curled his hand tighter around the bars holding him away from Tikka, and wondered bleakly how he could get them out of this unscathed.

Even that, even then, he might have been able to manage something - he wasn't sure what, exactly, perhaps Ward or Jakoby or one of their growing list of collaborators and informants, any number of them could stage a breakout.  And Kandomere could conveniently, clumsily have his personnel stationed elsewhere, unprepared - maybe he could simply drug them, that might work.  But then Tikka stirred in her cell, and rolled over, and heaved with sickness onto the floor, sobbing once at the pain of it and clutching at her head in wounded confusion.  And Kandomere knew then that no plan could ever be enough, because they had hurt his sister and he could not let her suffer while he looked on, a frozen spectator to her pain.

"You should go," he told Montehugh, reaching into his pocket and activating the jammer there, imagining the confusion and outrage upstairs as the live video feed fizzled to static.  He reached over to open the bars, tapping in the code and his fingerprint, and waited for the click as the lock released

"What?" The Human said, and then: "Hey!  You can't go in there, boss, she's dangerous -"

"Tikka is no more dangerous to me than I am to you," he said, then realized this was a poor comparison since Kandomere would soon pose a very real danger to everyone in this building who stood in the way of he and his sister as they fought for their freedom. "She is to me as your child and wife are to you.  She is mine, and I am hers."

Kandomere crouched down beside her and laid the wand in its box at his side.  He felt time tick away inside him as he counted out the minutes the teams upstairs had to work through their confusion, come to the realization of his betrayal, arm themselves against it.

"Tikka," he said, touching her shoulder, aching when she bent instinctively toward his hand, moaning wretchedly.  "Tikka, it's alright.  You're going to be fine.  Shh, let me help you."

"Boss -" Montehugh started to say, clearly shocked, and Kandomere waved him off.

"Be silent," he said.

Kandomere looked inside himself, past where Ward's power was running lazy laps beneath his skin.  He'd become so used to sharing in Ward that he had to search long before he found it: his own affinity for magic.  He took it in hand and used it to sing to the magic in Tikka, coaxing it gently awake.  It responded sluggishly; she was injured and more dangerous for it, and her magic was a wilder thing than Ward's, wary of him, wary of any outsiders.  He guided its working carefully, whispering how it might wick away Tikka's pain, speed the healing of her cuts and bruises, heal the dizziness and hurt of a severe concussion, mend the internal damage that hadn't been clear at first to his eyes alone.  The hand he could do nothing about.  It'd been shattered in three places, and he felt their combined efforts falter at even the thought of reworking the bone.  Amongst the three of them, only Ward could heal on such a level without the wand to hand. 

Tikka slumped against him, weary and pained, but no longer seriously wounded and miserable with it; just dispirited.

"My fault," Tikka said, on a whispery sigh.  "I knew someone had seen me, but I thought it only the vagrants or the Human children that come by, sometimes, to gawk at the Orcs and Dwarves and Centaurs.  I hadn't realized there was someone else."

"Foolish," Kandomere admonished, and glanced back to see Montehugh standing in the open door of the cell, dazed and speechless.

"Yes," Tikka said.  "And now we will all suffer for my folly."

"It's not so bad a thing, perhaps," Kandomere said, standing, pulling her up with him.  "My position here was transient at best and we always knew that.  There are a hundred ways it could have ended.  This one is not so terrible."

"Yes, brother," Tikka said, taking the case as he handed it to her, reaching in with her right hand for the wand when he opened it.  "Still.  The peace was lovely while it lasted.  But it seems it's time to go to war."

"Take care not to harm my agents too greatly," Kandomere admonished, stepping back toward Montehugh, who almost tripped getting out of the way.

"Boss?" the Human asked, rather weakly, putting his hands half up like he wasn't sure what to do now that Tikka had her wand back, the blue glow a dim thing as the underlying orange drowned it out.

"You'll need to tell them we forced you to be still and silent," Kandomere said, regretting that there would be no time to know this man better.  Theirs would never have been a renowned friendship, but the one they had wasn't necessarily shallow.  To lose it was an unexpectedly harder blow than Kandomere had anticipated.

Ah well.  All life was merely change; and now change was upon them.

"It might be best if we put you to sleep," Kandomere said to Montehugh, and when the man backed away with real fear in his eyes, he clarified: "To support your future story that I knocked you out."

"Oh," Montehugh said, hesitated, and then released a huge, heartfelt sigh.

"I know you got to have a good reason for doing this, boss.  But from where I'm standing this seems like a really stupid idea."

"It seems so from where we're standing also," Kandomere said.  "But I could not leave Tikka here and suffering while I waited for a better opportunity to get her out.  We will leave here together, or not at all."

Montehugh looked at him for a time, and while the Human thought on this, Kandomere reached again into himself, more deeply than he ever had; more deeply than it was possible to go.  Past the beat of his own heart, past the core of himself.  He scented the whisper of Ward's magic still surging there and followed it down, down again, until he could see the Human on the other side of the connection, surging powerfully with life.  Ward was sitting in his patrol car, typing something into a screen, and Kandomere was sitting there with him.  Ward's fingers were his fingers; Ward's eyes were his eyes. 

 _"Ward,"_ he said.

He could see in his mind's eye the Human jump and look around once in urgent confusion and then again more slowly.  Next to him Kandomere could sense Jakoby, the Orc surprisingly clear to his thoughts even without a magical bond.  The four of them had become very close, closer than anything Kandomere had ever heard of happening between races, and it showed most clearly in this moment.

" _Kandomere?"_ he could hear Ward ask, could hear Jakoby echo it uncertainly a moment later.

" _I'm in the task force building, in one of the cells_ ," Kandomere told them, stretching, feeling for the surroundings beyond them.  They were downtown, he thought, or near to it; not far away.

" _What?_ " Ward said, deep shock and dismay rolling through him.  " _Why?  How?_ "

" _Tikka is with me.  They captured her; she's been injured.  I've had to give my position away, and now they will know they have two Elf traitors in the building.  We will be moving to escape, as we're able.  Plan to meet at the Crossroads.  We'll need to visit a safe house to collect necessities._ "

Kandomere paused, felt Ward's heartache quickly overtaking shock, thoughts of Sophia strong in his mind, in his heart.  The pain of his grief was ghastly, like a blade driven through all of them.  Although it created a divide right down the middle of Kandomere to even think it, he could not but offer an alternative.

" _You may yet be able to stay; evade detection.  If you lay low and avoid being noticed for a time_ _-_ "

" _Yeah, not happening_ ," Ward said, fond exasperation and amusement leaking out of him so both Kandomere and Jakoby smiled in return. 

("That's really fucking creepy," Montehugh said, somewhere beyond this intimate link binding the three of them, and they each laughed at the bewildered Human, having forgotten he was there, in the real world, waiting.)

" _Sophia'll be fine; Bree has her,"_ Ward said, sounding as if he was trying hard to convince mostly himself _.  "I'll find a way to visit."_

They all knew Sophia and perhaps even Ward's ex-wife might need to go into hiding, might need to come with them some day.  But not today.  That was a worry for the future.

" _We're not meeting at the Crossroads_ ," Ward said, determinedly.  Jakoby echoed him, but then, the Orc always had been too blindly willing to follow.  " _We're close_.  W _e'll be there_ _in less than ten minutes.  Don't get dead in the meantime._ "

" _Jakoby need not come_ ," Kandomere offered, knowing of the deep meaning the Orc drew from his identity as an officer, mourning the hurt this would cause him -

("Like, really fucking creepy," Montehugh said.

"Yes, my brother does excel in disturbing others," Tikka agreed.)

\- but the Orc sent him outrage and indignation until Kandomere subsided without saying more.

" _I'll always be a cop, fighting for the right thing_ ," Jakoby said, loss and joy singing equally inside him.  " _I'll be a hero._   _Just won't come with the badge anymore.  Or the really crappy pay."_

" _Yeah_ ," Ward agreed. " _I mean, I'm pretty sure homeless revolutionary doesn't pay at all, crap or otherwise, so -_ "

("Boss," Montehugh said, suddenly tense and concerned. "You need to come out of that trance or whatever and deal with the real world now.  You got problems.")

" _I must go_ ," Kandomere said.  " _Be safe_."

And then, as thought dissolved back into the mortal plain, to Montehugh:

"I'm not your boss any longer."

"Fuck that," Montehugh said.  "Never had better, and believe me I've had plenty.  But you got to come see this.  C'mon."

He followed the man out, noting Tikka was already standing at the door - the _open_ _door_ , what in Nature's creation was she _doing_ -

He stopped.

Twelve agents waited for them on the other side of the door.  He'd expected them to come in black tac vests, armed with weapons, shields, ready to fight, ready to defend their own.  And some of them did; some of them had weapons to hand, some of them looked back at him in grim determination.

But not to fight against him.  To fight with him.

Even if scent and magic hadn't leant him an enhanced sense of the mood on the other side of that door, his agents would have given it away in their bearing.  They stood in silent, supportive solidarity, unflinchingly calm and confident; eleven Humans and one Elf.  Where the rest of them were, Kandomere had no idea.  He hoped fervently they were alive and well, merely unavailable, at worst unconscious.

Kandomere looked at Tikka, who looked back at him with a shrug; clearly this was an area she felt he should have more expertise, and of course she was right.  He slipped past her to walk ahead into the room beyond.

Part of him still expected to be shot dead on sight, and he braced for it; Tikka was fast, and she had Ward's wand, but even a Bright could be overwhelmed with a bullet in the right circumstances.  But no bullet came flying, and Tikka held steady at his left shoulder and Montehugh his right as they came through.  The agents stiffened at the sight of her, blood still caked heavily in her hair with eyes clear and brilliantly white, a shimmer of blue crackling like lightning around her form.  For long seconds everyone stood at a standstill, waiting for someone else to make the first move, no one willing to give ground.  And then Tikka calmly lowered her arm to point the wand at the floor; blue and orange light wavered and winked out.

Tension drained immediately from the room with an almost audible crack. 

"Sir," one of the agents said, a man who'd served on the task force a long time, almost as long as Kandomere had.  "We don't know what's going on, but we've all heard the rumors something's coming.  You've been building a power base, and no one knows why.  But it's got to be a pretty damn good reason.  This task force division is with you, sir."

"You can count on us," someone else said, a much younger agent, bristling full of purpose and loyalty and pride.

Kandomere was more moved than he knew how to say, that they would come to his aid like this, and yet -

"You may have just ended your careers," he said softly, testing.  One or two of them looked down or away, but all eventually looked resolutely up, determination in every inch of them.  Kandomere had not realized how wholly he was respected by the people in his division, how greatly they trusted his judgement.  They'd grown protective, yes, but in the way excellent agents might always be protective of a well-favoured leader.  Kandomere was remote with them, even cold at times; he hadn't realized how deeply he'd touched them, or how deeply they could touch him.

"I appreciate your support, truly," he told them, and meant it.  "But there are forces at work here you don't understand.  What I do is not simply rebellious.  It is treasonous.  Had I any family, they would all be in mortal danger after today, and any who came with me would face the same dilemma."

This struck more heavily at the heart of them.  Half now had the look of someone torn between knowing what was right and just, and understanding that to follow those things would mean leaving their whole lives behind.

Kandomere understood their indecision intimately well.

"I admire your loyalty," he said.  "But I cannot in good conscience bring you with us.  As you've said, I've made many plans over the last months; built up a significant base of power.  Don't fear on my behalf.  I am not alone."

Two of the younger ones looked distinctively relieved, likely because they had families and children waiting for them.  Three looked mutinous and disappointed.  The others were a dizzying array of confused and conflicted emotion.

"What have you done with the others?" Kandomere asked.

"Gassed them," one of them told him, smirking at all the others, who smirked cheerfully back.  "Knockout gas.  None of them even knew what hit them.  Shut off all the security feeds in the building beforehand, too, but the brass'll just think that was you, since you jammed the cell cameras."

"Excellent," Kandomere said, and it rather was.  He'd never thought he might find the idea of leaving, of abandoning his life here to be so very - freeing.  But it was; it felt like making a clean break, like allowing Nature's waters to sweep him away from past mistakes.  And now he would leave knowing he had the loyalty of some very remarkable people.  Once, long ago, when he lived the life of a pious Elf full of casual indifference and no little cruelty, their lives and their belief would have mattered very little to him.  Ward and Tikka and Jakoby had taught Kandomere the value of the individual; the person behind the cause.

He was proud to leave behind a larger legacy here than simply his empty chair in the division lead office.

"You'll likely hear many stories over time," Kandomere told them.  "About me.  About this.  Some will be real; some won't.  I can't say how long we'll be in hiding.  Months, perhaps years.  But one day the truth will come to light about a very dark thing, a relic of history from my people that will shake the foundations of the world.  No one will want to believe it.  Many will question.  But when you hear it, think on my leaving here and ask what it is that could have driven me to do it.  I, who have spent four hundred years as a solitary Elf and turned away from my own heritage to find a better way."  He looked at the one Elf in the group, a woman standing tall and poised and now uncertain as they all turned to follow Kandomere's gaze.

"Not all Elves are guilty," he said.  "And you'll do more harm than good to blame everyone when the fault lies with a few.  But be wary and keep always this in mind: here is a Bright, who I claim as sister," and here the Elf gasped, hand flying up to her mouth, and Kandomere smiled to see it, "who has done no wrong and harmed no one, but who would've died in her cell anyway, a traitor in name only.  Not all is what it seems in the world of magic, or in the Magic Task Force division.  I rely on all of you to use your discretion wisely, and well."

He took a breath, glancing back at Tikka waiting patiently, Montehugh thoughtful and torn beside her.

"And now we must leave," Kandomere said, turning back.  "I thank you for your loyalty and your trust."

The Humans murmured quick and formless platitudes, heartfelt but unbound.  But the Elf stepped forward to say in clear, ringing tones: "Freely is my loyalty given, and well is it returned.  It will not waver.  Elves endure, and so shall I."

The oath settled lightly between them, the words not quite in perfect alignment to complete the binding, but close enough.  Kandomere glared at her.  She was young; she knew not the consequences of her actions.  She risked much, and would gain little.

He saw some of the Humans step forward as if to echo her and cut them off sharply.  " _No_.  One foolish task force member bound to me is quite enough for one day.  Return to your posts, and forget you saw us here.  Be safe, and be well."

They filed out one by one, looking back wistfully at times.  The Elf stood last at the top of the stairs, staring inscrutably down at him.  She nodded once sharply before she turned away, disappearing after her comrades.

"You'll need to join them," Kandomere told Montehugh, motioning him out.  "At this point, you may all simply claim to have been knocked out by the gas.  You might want to add some credence to that story by making it true.  Magic Task Force won't let me go easily; they're liable to question everyone here.  You'll need to be cautious and cunning if you mean to protect them."

"I will," Montehugh said, deeply troubled as he looked hard at Kandomere one last time.  "We'll be here, when you're finished doing whatever it is you're doing.  We'll know the truth."

"I'll be counting on it," Kandomere said, and then watched him vanish out the door after the others.

" _Really, brother_ ," Tikka said in Övüsi, and he could scent the amusement on her, the laughter.  She was also full of painfully glowing pride, but mostly he felt her smug and inappropriate glee at his embarrassment.  " _You do seem to attract Humans to you no matter where you go_."

" _Then I am well-matched in Ward_ ," Kandomere sighed back at her. " _Since he seems to attract Elves to him, wherever he goes_."

"Don't worry," Tikka said on a laugh.  "I'll protect him for you.  Wouldn't want anyone else to get their hands on him, yes?"

"And you are just as well-matched," he scowled.  "You have his sense of humor."

"It is not an offensive thing, though it does offend at times," Tikka said, and raised the wand to point the way.  "Shall we?"

"Yes," he said, and they went up and out and walked into the day to find Ward and Jakoby waiting for them.  Together, they took the first step in the next chapter of their journey, where the world waited for them to come and break it, so that it might be remade into a better, brighter, more just and honourable thing indeed.


	14. Epilogue

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Ward said.

"I think he's serious," Nick said.

"I am always serious," Kandomere said.

The three of them examined the tree together, from its thick trunk up into its full green leaves, where a pair of Elf eyes looked down at them solemnly, slim fingers perched against a winding branch.

"Tikka," Ward said, gesturing impatiently. "Come down from there."

"No," Tikka said, hugging the tree fiercely with half her body. "It's mine."

"You can't have a tree," Ward said.  "Trees are sacred or something; Nature's awesome, whatever.  I get it, but you can't have it.  So get down here.  Now."

"No," she repeated, and then scrambled four more branches up, far enough that if she fell she might be seriously hurt if she were anyone other than a magic-wielding demon of an Elf.

"She's been up there for two days," Kandomere said.  "She's not coming down.  I repeat: it would be easier to take the tree with us."

"No," Ward said.

"Well, she _has_ been up there two days," Nick noted reasonably.  "I mean, if we can't get her out otherwise -"

" _No_ ," Ward said.

"Then I look forward to you convincing her she needs to leave it behind," Kandomere said.  "You might want to employ a new strategy, since your current one seems lacking."

"I hate you all so much," Ward muttered and stomped away, symbolically washing his hands of the three of them.  He walked for long minutes, until all he could see were the vibrantly green hills rolling out to either side of him.  Eventually he came to the gully, with its bubbling, frothing stream moving swiftly along the river bed, the gentle music of its current calm and soothing.  When they'd first arrived he'd complained twice to the others that clearly they'd infected him with their stupid love of Nature, because just listening to the water could take the edge off his tension now.  Both times they'd politely and loudly asked him why he thought that was a bad thing.  So far he'd yet to come up with a kickass retort.

Feeling harassed, and done with basically everything, Ward dropped where he stood and flopped down on his back.  He glared up at the clear gray sky, cursing the world, and Elves, and magic, and pretty much every decision he'd ever made over the last four years. 

They'd come here for a quiet sojourn, a little oasis of peace in an otherwise chaotic world, and it had been that and more.  They'd had five amazing days of Tikka and Nick frolicking through the grass and plants while Ward and Kandomere watched with vaguely parental mindfulness from the side.  Ward had brought Sophia for a day, had pulled her through the world laughing and delighted into their paradise; she'd been ecstatic to see him, had greeted Nick and Tikka with hugs and Kandomere with a shy smile.  Kandomere had never been one for silly behavior, and he had no sense of children at all, but Ward knew he was training himself not to be so stiff around her.  Ward had kissed him gratefully for it later, long and slow.

Sophia at thirteen was full of fire and curiosity, always asking a million questions, telling a million stories, but she was growing up too.  Ward missed her every day.  But leaving her had hurt much less since he'd finally mastered walking through the shadows of the world two years ago, and then figured out how to take someone with him six months after that.  It'd made their life on the run easier; amazing how instant teleportation could do that.  As an added bonus, obtaining that skill meant Ward could finally relax the part of his brain that always seemed occupied worrying endlessly about the people in his life.  There was still a chance one of them might die one day; no one could account for every stray bullet, every assassin, every rock in the road a clumsy Orc might trip over and break his neck on.  But Ward was satisfied knowing no one could separate or imprison them unless they somehow figured out how to stop him using his magic one day.

Much as teleportation had eased life considerably, though, it had the occasional downside.  As far as Tikka was concerned, Ward's new party trick meant she was allowed to demand increasingly odd and bizarre things be brought with them on their journey.  She'd once claimed an entire formal dining set for no reason Ward could see except that she delighted in forcing him to take things along he'd much rather leave behind.  Nick had had a dog for an entire year before he'd run into an Orc who needed one more and had reluctantly parted with the animal.  But in spite of Tikka's stubborn refusal to see reason, Ward drew the line at jumping an entire tree to their next destination.  There had to be limits somewhere.

Ward heard footsteps approaching and closed his eyes, the better to hear the soft susurration of the grass.  If he wanted to he could feel the life in each individual blade, knew that if he reached deep enough into the Earth he could ride the current of the world surging beneath him.  But Ward hated getting caught up in Nature; it never liked him looking over its shoulder and worrying at things that weren't his to worry about.  And it was always sure to give him a good strong smack up the head whenever he looked too long for its liking.

Ward didn't need magic to sense Kandomere's presence as the Elf slowly walked toward him.  The man had presence; he projected charisma and commanded respect wherever he went.  Part of it was his age, and part of it was just him, but there was a reason they always left him behind whenever they had to blend in somewhere.  Kandomere could hide his ears all he wanted, but nothing could disguise his noble bearing or make him less than what he was.

Ward waited until the Elf had stepped close and stopped right next to him.  Then he reached up and wrapped a hand around Kandomere's ankle, tugging until the Elf gracefully conceded to sit beside him.  Ward turned and banged his head softly against the man's thigh, sighing his displeasure loudly.  

"Are you done sulking, yet?" Kandomere asked, placing one strong hand on Ward's neck, scratching at the short hairs there.  Ward grumbled, draping an arm over the Elf's legs to pin him down.

"No," he said. "I'm not done sulking."

"It seems a simple enough thing," Kandomere said.  "Hardly worth all this drama."

"It is _not_ a simple thing. _Why_ would you think bringing a giant-ass tree with us would be a simple thing?"

"Simpler than the trouble of denying her," Kandomere said, and Ward muttered darkly.  The man probably wasn't wrong.

"Perhaps we could leave her here," Kandomere suggested.  "If we return for another visit in a month she may have decided by then the tree is no longer to her liking."

"Fat chance," Ward said.  Tikka loved Nature more than even the average Elf; now that she'd fallen in love with this damn tree there'd be no parting her from it.

"You could just steal her from the branches.  If you take her with magic from the tree she won't fight you.  She'll never let you live it down, and she would be impossible to live with for at least a week.  But she'd never dismiss you if you thought it was that important."

"I ain't going to use magic to drag her out of that tree," Ward said.

"And yet, you know there's no other way, since she won't leave it willingly.  So we come full circle to the idea of you taking it with us."

"You just want me to take it because you like it too," Ward said.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Kandomere said primly, but the tips of his ears gave him away.  The Elf's eyes were no longer a reasonable tell to look for.  Except on rare occasions they were always brilliant with color these days, and only after a rare long absence would Ward return to find them white starbursts, and Kandomere solemn and quiet after a reminder of his gray, sombre life from before.  But the ears were still a dead giveaway.  Ward made sure to remind Kandomere of that as often as he could, smugly enjoying the Elf's embarrassed protests whenever he pointed them out.

Actually, Ward enjoyed a lot of things about the man.  They'd only grown closer as the months and years went on.  They took their privacy where they could - again, thank fuck for teleportation - and some nights they spent apart, but most they spent together.  Kandomere loved all sensation; giving pleasure, taking it.  The mechanics of sex didn't matter to him and he had no shame in anything.  Ward had never been particularly shy, but Kandomere's complete disregard was a whole new level of fearless.

Kandomere laughed quietly, clearly having caught the direction of his scent and thoughts.  The Elf caressed one languid hand up and down Ward's back while carding the fingers of his other idly through the grass beside him.  Ward could feel him enjoying the soft tickle of it, the green life soaking into all his senses.  Elves were meant for Nature, and that was always clearest to Ward when he saw them thriving in it.

"Why did you guys have to pick a tree?" he asked.  "Couldn't I just have got you some nice little potted plants instead?"

"A plant would be a fine gift," Kandomere agreed.  "But a pale thing next to a tree, and paler still next to a tree like this one."

"Oh my God; you're such a fucking sap.  Maybe I should leave you here with Tikka for that month."

"Perhaps we should all stay here," Kandomere said.  "Have you considered that?"

Ward rolled over, blinking up at him, squinting in the bright daylight.

"What?"

"We have been on the move for more than two years now," Kandomere said.  He'd shifted as Ward did, his hand coming to rest casually on a broad chest.  He used one finger to trace an absent word in Övüsi there, but Ward was too distracted to pay attention to it.

"Yeah, but we can't just _stop_ ," Ward said.  "They'll find us."

"And if they do?  Do you think there is anything they could do to you now, as far into your power as you've gone, that would pose any real threat?"

It was a good question.  There was little Ward couldn't do these days, with the wand at his side, and Tikka guarding his back, and Kandomere and Nick on either flank.  After finally pulling off teleportation he'd turned to more mundane things; learning the words of war, words of plenty, of life and death, healing and creation.  He'd kept them running, kept them moving, while he mastered magic the same way he'd mastered firing a gun in a long-ago life.  He was almost equally skilled in both now.

"If we stayed, you could have more time to build your defenses," Kandomere coaxed gently.  "And to see others.  To see Sophia."

Instant teleportation aside, the days Ward really got to see his daughter were few and far between.  Every time he did he felt like he was putting a target on her back.  They'd finally been forced to relocate her and Bree as the years went on, slipping them into hiding as they had all the other refugees through the years.  Sophia hated it.  She'd been angry for a long time, in spite of getting to meet some truly kickass people, even though she'd eventually come to think of it as some kind of espionage adventure.

Nick was the one who'd eventually talked her around; of the four of them, he'd always been the best with people.  Ward had never found the words to tell his daughter how he'd felt, how afraid, how terrified he'd been when the Director finally figured out the other end of Kandomere's equation.  When she'd discovered exactly what it was that had drawn the Elf away, found the groundwork Kandomere had left behind.  The woman hadn't been long after that in looking for ways to weaken Ward, and they'd all been horrified when Sophia vanished from school one day.  But they hadn't been surprised. 

In the end, her gambit hadn't gone well for anyone.  Ward certainly didn't pull any punches defending his daughter.  A lot of people died.  The Director was only the last in a long line of causalities.

Sophia was young enough she'd brushed off the trauma of the whole experience by declaring it only proved her dad and his friends were 'total badasses'.  And she'd immediately started a months-long campaign of hero worship that could've given Nick a run for his money.  None of them had had the heart to tell her how desperately close it'd been, how badly it could've gone and nearly did.  Ward had tagged her with a watchword after that, and sent her into hiding.  So far they were still slipping under the radar, but every day he lived in fear that that might change at any moment.

The idea of finally settling down, having a place to call their own, a home where he might see more of Sophia, where she might see more of him -

"But - here?" Ward asked.  "Why here?"

"Why not?" Kandomere returned, gesturing wide to take in the lush green mountain landscape and the water flowing past below them, the untroubled overcast sky.  They were in New Zealand, somewhere, Ward thought, or maybe Chile, or Brazil, or Iceland, he wasn't quite sure anymore.  There were no people here, in any case; it was a peaceful and abandoned stretch of land one of their allies had offered for their use.  Geography had never been Ward's strong suit, and they jumped so frequently these days he could usually only keep track of where they were by who they were meeting.  If they were in a city where people spoke English, it was usually Europe or the USA or sometimes Canada.  It was clear when they were in Asia, or Africa, or the Middle East.  If they went somewhere and people spoke Orcish or Elvish or Dwarvish or some other obscure 'ish' language, then they could be anywhere as far as Ward was concerned.  He mostly let Tikka and Kandomere lead the way when it came to destinations; they were all happier that way.

"Jakoby has been admiring the hillsides on the Northeast-facing slope.  He's been babbling about terraced farming and his friends among Jirak's Orcs who might enjoy settling here.  It's not quite police work, but he might be content enough staying in one place for a time."

That was something Ward had never quite gotten over; taking that away from Nick, who had only ever wanted to be a cop and who was now a fugitive.  Nick always swore to him he had no regrets, and as far as Ward could tell and Kandomere could scent, that was true.  But some days Ward saw Nick look around in the cities they ghosted through, saw him take in the signs of civilization and linger on the tell-tale marks of authority, stop and admire anytime they passed by a police division or someone patrolling the street.  Ward could never give that back to him, except maybe if they ever managed to work out the details of remaking the world, and even then - well.

"A farmer, huh?" Ward said, thinking about it. "Man, I hope you don't expect me to settle down to that.  I have zero green thumbs."

"Yes, thankfully you have magic to give you sustenance and power," Kandomere said.  "We all know if you had to grow or even cook your own food you'd probably have starved long ago."

"Hey, I can cook," Ward said.

"You can use a microwave," Kandomere said.  "And on rare occasions a stove top.  Which, astonishingly, we've rarely managed to have on hand in the last two years."

"Yeah, but when we've had one, you know I can nuke a pizza pocket like nobody's business."

Kandomere shuddered, and it was only half in jest.  Ward knew the Elf still maintained pizza was the classic example of Human's ruining perfectly good food, and in his eyes pizza pockets elevated that to the level of sheer abomination.

Nick had made the mistake once of saying most Orcs thought pizza was the best thing Humans had ever given the world.  That resulted in a week of icy silence which only ended after Ward finally got tired of the cold war and had Tikka drag Nick away while Ward applied himself to distracting the hell out of Kandomere until he basically forgot food even existed to squabble over.

"You really like it here that much, huh?" Ward asked, mulling it over.  "You'd stay here and play farmer too?  Climb in trees like Tikka, sing at the plants and watch them grow, commune with Nature or some shit?"

"I will stay where you are," Kandomere said.  "Here or elsewhere, it doesn't matter.  And I do not climb trees.  I'm much too old for such nonsense."

That was rich, because Ward had caught him and Tikka napping on hammocks strung through branches two stories high just last month, and he'd refused to tell Ward how he got up there.  They'd been in Africa, then?  Or maybe it was Australia.  It had been a long time since they'd stayed for more than a week in their native USA; the authorities there were too alert looking for them.  Thankfully, they'd not only found refuge in other places, other countries, but they'd been more than welcomed longer-term with some of the other misfits in the world, like-minded people who saw the flaws in the fabric of history and hoped their little quartet might bring that to light one day. 

There were more people than Ward had ever thought there might be; thousands, millions even.  A lot of people he'd helped, along the way, and others he'd failed who praised his paltry efforts anyway.  For all the trouble his life had come to, he'd never quite brought himself to regret waking up into the world again after Tikka and Nick taught him how to play hero.  The world had suffering in it, and he had a way to help; a better way than some people, better even than some governments, especially the corrupt ones.  Nick hadn't been wrong in the beginning, when he'd said a wand was like a nuclear weapon that granted wishes.  Ward had spent years now learning the best ways to wish, all the ways he needed to avoid, when to ask the magic softly and when to demand.  It was like learning to drive, or learning to walk, and by now it was second nature.  Magic came to his hand more readily than words did to his mouth.  But then, he'd never been much of a talker, after all.

"I guess we could give it a try, for like a month," Ward said, warming up to the idea.  "Best case, we make this into a base of operations and Tikka and Nick get to keep swinging from vines and digging up crops.  Worst case, we put down some roots and the bad guys come running, and we fight it out.  Wouldn't be the first time."  They'd had more than a few skirmishes over the years, sometimes the Inferni, but more frequently these days with sanctioned assassins sent to kill any of them they could get their hands on.  After the Director, most of the truly powerful Elves of the world had finally caught on to what Kandomere had set in motion on that long-ago day by sitting a jaded beat cop down and telling him a story.  At first they'd been nonchalant and lazy about sending their enforcers to stop them; that'd changed after the four of them started sending them back.  In pieces.

"We must make a stand somewhere," Kandomere agreed.  "We might start it here, and if we're forced to leave you can simply take Jakoby's future farm with you."

"I'm _not_ taking his farm with us," Ward said.  "I wouldn't take Tikka's tree, now you want me to take a whole farm?  Fuck's sake."

"You know he'll be insufferable if you don't."

"I know _I'll_ be insufferable if I have to move a whole fucking farm."

"You won't need to move it," Tikka said, and they both turned to look at her.  Kandomere, with his enhanced senses, was almost never taken by surprise, and Ward could feel the currents of life moving through everything these days.  She'd only been there a minute or two, and Ward wasn't bothered.  The four of them had very few secrets; it was hard to have secrets when you were on the run with people in small quarters.

"No?" Ward asked.

"No," she said.  "I have dreamed these hills and my tree before.  We will stay here a very long time."

"If you knew that why didn't you just say so?" Ward groaned.  He really hated Tikka's penchant for riddle and rhyme sometimes.  There were days she got so lost in her own head she lost track of the outside world.  More than once she'd been confused that no one understood her grand plan in the middle of a daring escape or a firefight, without realizing she hadn't actually told it to them beforehand.  Thank God Ward had fallen for the other Elf.  Kandomere could be obscure and frustrating like nobody's business, but at least he could be reasoned with.  Most of the time.

And he'd stopped trying to get Ward to imagine himself as the inside of an endless ocean or a leaf on the wind, so there was that.

"I did say.  I told you the tree was mine and I would not leave it."

Ward sighed as dramatically as he knew how and closed his eyes.

"Besides, " Tikka said.  "There's a convergence of power at the heart of the ravine that you'll need.  It will be necessary in remaking the world before the Dark Lord comes.  We shouldn't leave it for someone else to find."

"Oh," Ward said.  "Is that was that is?"  He'd felt it, of course; there was a reason the gully unwound tension from Ward he hadn't even known could be unwound.  But he'd had no idea what to call it, or even what it was exactly.  The glitter of it was like a star he could only see if he looked at it sideways.  But he saw a lot of strange things through the filter of the magic these days.

"Yes, that's it," Tikka said.  "And I think I'm not the only one to dream of it."

"Sister, remember our agreement about keeping to your own truths," Kandomere admonished.

"I do that," Tikka protested.  "Mostly.  If I shared all the truths I've dreamed of you, Ward would never stop blushing."

"That means you've been spying again, you depraved -"

"That's enough, children," Ward said with world-weary patience.

"I knew you would understand eventually," Tikka told him, and he could feel the glee in her, the happiness.  "Now I may have my tree, and you may have your place of power, and Nick may have his farm, and Kandomere may have you."

"I already have him," Kandomere said. "Regularly."

"Well _now_ that won't be happening again anytime soon," Ward said.

"We shall see," Kandomere demurred smugly, and Ward wanted to laugh, and kick his ass, and kiss him simultaneously.  The Elf had a lot to be smug about, Ward had to give him that, but did he have to be so fucking embarrassing about it?

Kandomere slid down to lie next to him, and Ward draped himself across his chest heavily, closing his eyes.  Tikka sat at both their feet, humming a nameless tune, and moments later Nick came ambling by, and said:

"Hey, Ward, what would you think about staying here for a while?  Those hills over there get a lot of sunlight, and I've been talking with my friends, you know, the ones who like farming, and well, I was thinking -"

He went on happily for a time, and Ward listened to the sound of his voice while he leaned into Kandomere's strength and pulled lightly at the threads of life until he thought he could see the future Tikka always dreamed about, with everything moving into place beneath their feet, the shroud of a broken world lifting.

It was a start, this place.  This time.  And it was not an end. 

It was a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's all folks! This was a ton of fun to write. Heartfelt thanks to anyone taking the time to comment or leave kudos, they are so appreciated, and it's such a gift hearing people's thoughts! 
> 
> And now let's all cross our fingers for a Bright sequel sometime soon...


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